"Why don't you call the store number?" I asked.
"I did. Not one pick up the phone."
Annoyed, but I decided to help. But her presumption was that I was willing to walk around the store looking for her books - when she is too lazy to make a trip down herself. I told her later to just call the store herself. I went home.
Why this attitude?
I have no problem helping out a friend for books - in fact I usually make an effort.
But Dorothy, you have no right to call yourself my friend.
Three years of silence, no "Happy Birthday," no "Happy New Year," no "Merry Christmas" - and suddenly you call me out of the blue when you needed help over something so trivial.
Love dies from neglect. Our friendship died years ago.
You crush my heart, you manipulated me - and let's not mention the mindfuck.
You knew what you were doing. But you were right, it happened because I allowed it.
But I promised myself, it will NEVER happen again.
You call us "deviants" - but you loathe yourself. You think of yourself as a freak. I do not think of myself like that.
I cherish myself. A pity you never did.
But I agree on this point - you are sado-masochistic. You are grotesque.
You are a vampire. You drained me but I survived.
PS: I usually use initials to protect the innocent - but you are not innocent. Fuck you.