No Happy Ending.

"I hope you're happy,
Now that you're choosing this.
I hope it brings you bliss.
I really hope you get it,
And you don't live to regret it."

Well blogging got me into this mess so I guess I'll use it to get out of it. Or at least tidy things up a bit.
Congratulations. This will my fourth blog in your honour. And I'm about to make it your last.
To me, all those now seem like a waste of precious blog space. How tacky.
Because what have they achieved? Nothing. The only reason I wrote these stupid things was because I knew it was the only way I could get you to listen to me. The only way I knew you would take in something I wrote. The only way you could possibly know how I was feeling, without hearing it from someone else, because that’s how it always seems to be.

"We all know you love the attention."

I wonder if you think I’m upset right now? Well I’m angry that’s for sure. A little pinged off that it went for this long.
But I’m not sad – if that’s what you’re thinking. Sure I guess I’m a little disappointed. But I won’t be sad for a while.

I really love how you treat me. Am I just someone you can string along your whole life? I am sick of feeling like I am just there for when you’re bored, or have nothing better to do.
Like that time we went for drinks. That you organised. And then, suddenly, you’re just like “Well, I’ve given you my allocated hour. Goodbye.”
Seriously. It was as if I had begged for you to be there. Like you had much better places you’d rather be. Like I was just some time filler. But I guess that's all I am really.

And also that recent "conversation" of ours. Where you said; "but, that affection is gone danni."
What are you? A robot? That's the most blunt thing I've ever heard. And next time you talk to me, spell my name right. There is an 'e' on the end. It was spelt on my msn name - right above where you were typing. Asshole.

I am so sick of you treating me like shit all the time.
You bring me down. You make me seem like things are always my fault. And I know they aren’t. Not this time. Everything you say you are only thinking about yourself. You think you’ve worded things nicely, but it just makes you seem even more of a dick. Dick. Funny how that one word has been used so regularly to describe you, even if I'd thought you had grown out of that character. I guess I was wrong.

And I’m sorry I’m publicising this. But we all know you love the attention.
It’s in your blood, after all.

You want to make things better? You should probably just leave me alone for a few days.
You want to know how I'm feeling? Then you have this very blog.
You want me not to publicize these kinda things? Then stay out of my life. You do the very same by posting everyone's business in your own forms of writing. You've always been the hypocrite in this situation.

"This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending."