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I model my behavior in emotional situations based on what I've seen in movies. It's easier to make a face and say what's expected instead of explaining that I just don't give a shit. But I don't. I've gotten so good at it, that I can simultaneously pretend to give a shit and think about what's for dinner that night or what I want to be doing later.
People think I'm a great friend. "You always know what to say!" or "you always make me feel better". That's because I'm trying, desperately, for you to stop crying and complaining so I can go on and have FUN. I can't believe no one has ever caught on.
After putting your efforts into someone for months, only to find they view people as game pieces to be played, it's still hard to let go. Even though the pain she's caused will dull with time, the lessons were still hard to learn. I feel like the only thing that came out of this was realizing how careful you have to be about who you make your heart vulnerable to, and that I can never really depend on anyone to be there for me no matter how much I care for them. And just to get it off my chest... I should have know this sooner, I should have paid attention to the signs, to the intelligent people that were no longer dealing with you because of the venom you inject into their lives. I held you when you sobbed on the floor when you came home to your dead cat when your alcoholic boyfriend had dumped you the day before. You abandoned me, our friendship, and any chance of having a future with me of any sort. I thought we were so much closer than we were. And you fucking knew it because I told you.
I don't understand. Why is everything so different between us? I'll ask you to do something or hang out, and it's like you only go because you feel obligated. Recently, I feel like the only time you want to hang out with me is if she's involved, and even then it's only to make her happy. It's not like you really want me there. Part of me thinks that you used me to get to her, but another pat of me knows that that isn't the case. Or it's praying that it isn't the case.
We haven't received a dime. We go to the same guy for coke, so we know they're still cracked out. He applied ofr unemployment online, where apparently they don't check shit out for a few weeks, because he got a couple of checks. Now he owes them money too. The mail block was only in effect for a month, and I am so totally pissed that there is absolutely nothing we can do to keep their shit from coming here. We read it.
He owes GMC around five grand because they repod his truck, our of impound, and had to pay all of the impound fees, so they want that, plus what he owes on the truck itself. I heard that's breach of contract, and he could go to jail.
She's knocked up.
Let me tell you about Samantha, who was my friend for six years, and then just...wrote me off. Sam and I started hanging out in ninth grade. We both smoked cigarettes and pot, we were both fond of pills. We enjoyed the same music. We liked the same boys. We were inseparable until the middle of tenth grade, when she dropped out of school and moved to a one horse town (Markleville) to live with a guy who supported her in exchange for pussy, and the right to occasionally use her as a punching bag. She didn't come back until I graduated. Now, I did go and see her, and she came to town occasionally, to steal or beg or borrow, and to party. What we did for those four years was: drugs, giggle about things, make jokes, drugs, make each other laugh, giggle, drugs, talk about boys, drugs, make each other laugh, and gossip. We had similar senses of humor, and we were rarely seen together sober and serious. When I graduated, she moved back in town, and we did more of the same for another year. Then, in May 2005, I moved to Indianapolis and made friends with the hippie neighbor and all of his friends. We partied with them a lot, at a higher level of partying than we had previously attained. At the end of August, I moved back to New Castle. Sam and I did more partying. In April of 2006, I moved in with the nextdoor hippie, since we were dating. Sam met Kenny, best friend of Owen (the hippie). They fell for each other, and both moved in. The agreement was that we would all pay for a quarter of the utilities, the mortgage, all party supplies, anything else. Sam and Kenny never paid a dime. Owen and I (more Owen) paid for everything. Sam and Kenny oftentimes borrowed money for cigarettes and such, but we stopped loaning after they owed a thousand dollars. They still ate our food, and at a much faster rate then what we've been eating now that it's just the two of us. They drank all of our booze, and Kenny smoked more of Owen's green than Owen did. Sam also smoked a lot of it, even though she told us she wasn't, because she was supposedly trying to get a job. Things grew worse. I had my wisdom teeth surgically removed, and had two kinds of pain pills. I refused to share, not only because they were fucking mooches, but because I kind of needed those painkillers to.. you know.. kill the pain. So she fucking stole them. She thieved my painkillers! I had to call the doctor and beg for more. He was an ass anyway (refused to give me antibiotics, when I went back a week later to get my stitches out, he said that the places where the teeth came out weren't infected, when I could taste the fucking infection. I went to my regular dentist, he said he'd never seen such bad infection, had to drain the infection, and gave me massive doses of antibiotics to take for three weeks, and insanely potent painkillers.) He didn't want to give me any more painkillers. He finally gave me weak ass something or others, so I had to get something off the street just to kill the pain enough so I could function. Over the next few weeks, she stole clothes, jewelry, money, books, make-up, and underwear (weird, right?) from me. When we went to Bonnaroo, Owen and I paid for everything, and a hundred dollar bill disappeared out of my hiding place, while we were all at camp. In mid July, Kenny went to the hospital with what turned out to be a kidney stone. I took him and Sam to the hospital, no problem. I waited with them and took them home, no problem. Owen paid over $200 to fill Kenny's prescriptions, two of which were painkillers that would fuck you up. They kept them to themselves, even though every time I got any drugs, I shared, unless I needed them for pain. Kenny never paid Owen back for those prescriptions, either. They'd take our cell phone and leave for the weekend, drunkenly answer the phone with lewd comments, even though the phone was programed to say "Owen - Grandma" or whatever. They didn't take messages. They weren't paying the bill, but they called 900 numbers and horoscopes and all kinds of shit. Besides all this, they were totally antisocial, even though they were living in the same house. They'd come out and get the booze we bought, and go back into their room and crank the TV and have loud hilariously brief sex. We kicked them out. I wanted to kick them out after a month, but Owen is much nicer than I am, and he had hope that Kenny would snap out of it and act like his old self(his old self being a laid back hippie, but one that paid his debts, didn't steal, and didn't lie) I knew what Sam was, and that she had used me and was done with me. But they ended up staying three and a half months. As they were moving out, Sam planted a pair of pants in my closet, so she could say they were missing. Now, when I found a pair of skintight gold jeans with playboy bunnies on the ass, and one right on the crotch, and going down the sides of the legs, I knew what was up. I hid them. I said "Come and find them" And she went in my room, smirking, and came out glaring at me. After they moved up to Carmel, I donated them to the Carmel Goodwill, where I knew she'd been shopping and would continue to shop. She made off with several of my sweatshirts, three pairs of pants, a large amount of shirts, two pairs of shoes, and about tens pairs of underwear. Gross. Why would you steal someone else's underwear? They also, together, took CD's from both of us, and a large amount of food, shampoo, towels, soap, etc. They've never changed their phone number. We get calls for them all the time. They've never changed their address, either, but we went to the post office and signed a paper saying we refuse to accept any mail with their names on it. But the calls...He let his truck get repossessed, since it was in impounded( explain in a minute) He has hospital bills from his kidney stone, etc. What really blew me away was today, I got a call from a different hospital, one he didn't go to while he lived here. They're still giving our address and phone number out as their own, to avoid bills! They still have a good chunk of our basement full of their boxes. They still haven't paid a dime. Sam's never given me anything back. They both quit talking to all of their friends. The last time we talked to them, Kenny told us that they'd managed to save up $1300 in two weeks, and they'd bought Sam (a talentless hack if there ever was one) a twelve string guitar. They couldn't pay us ANYTHING, but they can save that much up? Hmmm... We have since heard from severa of Kenny's co-workers that he hit a lady's truck, and she gave him so much hell for not having insurance while they were waiting for the cops that he left. Hit and run. He was arrested, and his truck impounded. He can't get the money to get it out, because he and Sam are smoking a lot of crack on a daily basis now, and have tapped all money sources dry, including family. So he let the truck go, and bought a shitty truck from a co-worker. And where did the title go? Our house. We called and told his mother, and after he didn't call back for a few days, we sent it back to the BMV for it to get lost in paperwork hell. The last thing we heard was that Kenny was fired for doing lines of coke with a coworker in the bathroom of one of the apartments complexes his company does maintenance on. Mind you, this was a bathroom off of the pool changing rooms, which have locks on them, and are closed in the winter. So that's the tale of the shitty dissolution of my longest friendship. Sorry it's so long, I did leave a lot out. Bleah.
I find myself converting more and more tho this whole idea of friendship. I've realized since I moved away from my parents' house, I've become more prone to allowing people to be something of friendly with me. It's an awkward thing...this idea of friendship.