A thorn in my flesh
You know, it's probably wrong to want someone to disappear, but oh, how I do! I wish that this problem would just go away and leave me alone for the rest of my life. If only it knew how easily I forget about it. Then curiosity kicks me in the tuchas and I decide to see how this problem is doing. Yeah, that's probably not the smartest thing to do, because now I'm furious to the point of wanting to punch the problem in the face. Does it talk about the reason for it all? Does it talk about how it's a psycho problem with deep, emotional issues? No. Does it consider the fact that I am just fine and do not need it's psychoanalysis or judgment? No. Does it talk about the fact that its a former child molester? No. Ugh. So, here it is. My one and final statement meant just for this problem.
Dear problem,
I do not think about you. I checked on you because I was scared you'd offed yourself or something since you hadn't called me in the middle of the night or e-mailed some weepy letter. Despite the fact that I do not enjoy your existence on the earth, I certainly do not wish harm to you. Unless it means I get to punch you in the face. The fact that you cannot seem to move on and seem to want nothing more than to sling my name through the mud to make yourself feel better... proves to me what a child you are. You're trying to lead others in righteousness when you, yourself are FAR from righteous? Please. Get help, son.
You can talk all the crap you want, theorize about my sinfulness, whatever helps you sleep at night. But here's a little something you need to know: You're not fooling anybody. My family saw right through you. They wanted me to put a restraining order against you. To bring some sort of legal action against you for being a nutjob. Here's the thing though: I don't care. Not about you. Heartless? Maybe. You don't respond to reason. You only respond to dramatic overtures and pointless games. IT STOPS HERE.
Get over it! Get over me! Forget about me and leave me alone! I don't want you! I don't want you in my life EVER! I'm happy, I'm healthy, I'm making something of my life. If you stopped obsessing, maybe you could make something of yours. This is my last statement on the matter. I will never think of you again. You do not exist. You never did. I'm done. So if you think you're waiting for me to come around, you seriously need a clue. (Not to mention extreme psychotherapy!)
Please, for the love of all that is holy -- GET A LIFE. This is why you can't get or keep a girlfriend. You're absolutely nuts. You're smothering. You're judgmental. You're hateful and spiteful and immature. Good lord, you're nearly 22 years old and you act like a 5 year old having a temper tantrum. There is something very wrong upstairs and you need to get that crap fixed.
Ugh. PLEASE -- just move on! Whatever little scenario is going on in your head... yeah, that is NEVER going to happen. So, stop it. I seriously hope you get some help before someone gets hurt because you -- your actions -- that's NOT healthy. I see you losing it someday. More so than you did in December and you'll either rape or kill someone, because you, my non-friend, have something seriously wrong with you. Please, get help. Get help NOW! And please, go away. Leave me alone. But mostly, go away.
Goodbye, Godspeed, good riddance,
Shannon
Dear problem,
I do not think about you. I checked on you because I was scared you'd offed yourself or something since you hadn't called me in the middle of the night or e-mailed some weepy letter. Despite the fact that I do not enjoy your existence on the earth, I certainly do not wish harm to you. Unless it means I get to punch you in the face. The fact that you cannot seem to move on and seem to want nothing more than to sling my name through the mud to make yourself feel better... proves to me what a child you are. You're trying to lead others in righteousness when you, yourself are FAR from righteous? Please. Get help, son.
You can talk all the crap you want, theorize about my sinfulness, whatever helps you sleep at night. But here's a little something you need to know: You're not fooling anybody. My family saw right through you. They wanted me to put a restraining order against you. To bring some sort of legal action against you for being a nutjob. Here's the thing though: I don't care. Not about you. Heartless? Maybe. You don't respond to reason. You only respond to dramatic overtures and pointless games. IT STOPS HERE.
Get over it! Get over me! Forget about me and leave me alone! I don't want you! I don't want you in my life EVER! I'm happy, I'm healthy, I'm making something of my life. If you stopped obsessing, maybe you could make something of yours. This is my last statement on the matter. I will never think of you again. You do not exist. You never did. I'm done. So if you think you're waiting for me to come around, you seriously need a clue. (Not to mention extreme psychotherapy!)
Please, for the love of all that is holy -- GET A LIFE. This is why you can't get or keep a girlfriend. You're absolutely nuts. You're smothering. You're judgmental. You're hateful and spiteful and immature. Good lord, you're nearly 22 years old and you act like a 5 year old having a temper tantrum. There is something very wrong upstairs and you need to get that crap fixed.
Ugh. PLEASE -- just move on! Whatever little scenario is going on in your head... yeah, that is NEVER going to happen. So, stop it. I seriously hope you get some help before someone gets hurt because you -- your actions -- that's NOT healthy. I see you losing it someday. More so than you did in December and you'll either rape or kill someone, because you, my non-friend, have something seriously wrong with you. Please, get help. Get help NOW! And please, go away. Leave me alone. But mostly, go away.
Goodbye, Godspeed, good riddance,
Shannon