I apparently do not know how to be a bitch. Really. I think after growing up with The Irene and the tales of her many years of Being A Bitch it left a sour taste in my mouth. I easily forgive. I brush a lot of things off that most people would consider damaging.
Back in undergrad, Jay called me the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes after that Fall Out Boy song. He meant it in the sense that everyone I seemed to deal with at the time ended up being either a liar or fake, and they’d come flocking to me, I suppose. It’s not so much the same now - I do my damndest to make sure that most, if not all, of my interactions with people are genuine and I’ve learned to spot when people start abusing that privilege - but the ease with which I let people back into my life once they’ve been gone for a while is…impressive.
wah wah cry more, it’s 5:44 AM and I woke up in the middle of the night so I had to complain somewhere, why not Tumblr?