I am still very upset and hurt about last night.

I am too stubborn to actually speak to you, so I’m sharing my thoughts here, where you can’t read them. I’m brilliant, I know.

You apparently don’t and that’s part of the problem.

I don’t plan on talking to you until I get an apology. I don’t actually foresee this happening, so I’m not holding my breath, don’t worry.

You are not my father. I have two of those already. I do not need your approval on how I live my life. We don’t technically live together, we don’t share financial responsibility of anything, so I fail to see how MY finances are any of YOUR business.

I fucked up. We all know this. I have taken GIANT leaps and bounds to correct said fuck ups. I am TRYING. Not that you see, or appreciate that fact. It’s all “try harder” and “not good enough”. I understand the situation I am facing better than anyone. It is mine. I own my mistakes. I own my debt. How I manage it is really none of your concern. What I spend my money on is also none of your concern. If you are concerned with my spending, maybe you should stop asking me to take you out to dinner, or making me buy you a $5.25 hot dog at the Reds game. Or maybe, you could come to MY house so I don’t spend $60 in a week on gas.

Just thoughts.

I am doing the only thing I can to keep my head above water. None of your solutions are realistic or feasible. I don’t appreciate you judging me or talking to me like I’m an idiot. I understand it’s not an ideal situation. This is where I am, however. I cannot change it. I cannot do anything additional to what I am doing. I am hoping that as of March, things will get better. You need to listen when I talk.

You attacked me last night. You attacked my intelligence and my choices. I don’t always make the right decisions, but it is my life and they are my decisions to make. As I suggested to you last night, you are more than welcome to take over and manage my life for me if you feel you can do better.

We don’t have to agree. And clearly, we do not in this situation.

I don’t think you understand my predicament. I bring in x amount of dollars each month.  Nearly all of that goes to pay for things I cannot give up. I didn’t dare tell you that I paid my mother’s cell phone bill and I’m not going to mention that she owes me this month. She is losing her job and may lose the house. I’m not going to ask her for $75.

Also, thank you for your very helpful shrug and “I dunno” when you suggested she sell the house and move in with her fiance, and I questioned where would I live if she did such a thing. Considering I live with you, informally, I assumed that you would perhaps offer to make it official. Not that I care either way, but the fact that you didn’t really stung.

I love you very much, but if you’re going to talk to me in a condescending way and generally act like a self righteous dickface, I’m not sure that I’ll be staying there, informally or not, much longer. This is not a threat, it is a statement of fact. I am done bending over backwards to make a man happy. You see where it got me the last time.

No, don’t even go there. I am not “comparing” you to him. And for fucks sake. I barely mention him in your presence, and when I do I NEVER say his name. Yet, I have to hear about your ex CONSTANTLY. So really, enough.

I know I was very cold and distant this morning. I will continue to be so until I hear “I’m sorry” pass your lips. You don’t have to be sorry for your opinion. You are entitled to think I’m an idiot. I’m inclined to agree, most times. But you are not entitled to tell me how to live my life.

And while we’re on the subject of things you have done to provoke my anger, and again, you actually saw it for the first time last night. I hope it scared you. I still do  not find it funny when you talk about other girls. I will never find it funny. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this. You know exactly why I don’t think it’s funny or a joking manner. Yet you continue to make jokes about other women. I know that I don’t share things with you that I should. It’s mostly because you don’t listen and you definitely do not understand. I tried to talk to you about my self esteem and how it’s really slipping away from me right now. I feel horrible about myself physically. I haven’t hated myself this much since right after the break up. Which was caused by my boyfriend cheating on me with another, skinny, woman. So please, I am asking you one last time, do not joke about fucking other women. It will never, ever be funny to me. It hurts me in a way I clearly cannot get you to understand.

Oh, and it would be nice if you said “I love you” once in awhile. I can probably count on one hand the number of times you’ve said it in the past few months. I’d like to think that you do love me. But you don’t exactly show it well when you’re telling me how awful I am at running my life and how you’re available to my friend who is trying to figure out her sexuality. I am offended by both of those thoughts. I try incredibly hard to be patient with you. I give you a wide berth due to the situation you’re facing. I try to let things go and not make a big deal out of little things. Everyone has a limit. You have launched yourself across mine. Tread very carefully. I am tired, and I don’t take kindly to your brand of fuckery. I will punch you in the face.

Now, seeing as you are not actually reading this, my friends are, let me say this…

You also are not welcome to judge me or tell me what I need to do or how I should handle this. I am a grown up. I will do what feels right for me. It may not be what you would do, but I am not you. I appreciate your love and concern as always, but I am fine. I am venting. I am pissed off. This is only my side of the story. So please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t make me get mad at you for the same reason I am mad at him.