Bits and pieces of my journal entry: September 13th, 2011.

I guess, in the grand scheme of things, I could say thank you. I could tell you thank you for allowing me to get over my hate for a certain high school rival that I harshly criticized for years; most was just a product of jealousy. I could say thank you for putting me in a cage for so long- just to learn to have the strength to get out. I can say your welcome for making you countless cds, and introducing you to The Smiths. I can say your welcome for listening to your pig-headed ramblings about how you just know everything. I can say your welcome for putting up with your creepy comparisons of me to Zooey Deschanel. What I would really enjoy doing though, is telling you off (while your mouth is taped shut so I don't have to hear your voice). However, I know that it's not worth it. You will never ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER change.

You cannot dedicate the same M Ward song to every girlfriend you've ever had or will have, and assume they'll melt to your ugly feet. I want you to know that no woman is your property, regardless of how small, timid, or shy she may be. She still has a voice. I want you to know what I know. Your cinematic lines were not spit in my direction as a first rehersal. You've got this down. We can quote you, word for word, at the exact same time. Hilarious, actually.

It's nice to know I wasn't the only victim, or fool. At the same time, it is so damn aggravating that you have manipulated, and emotionally abused more than just me. Honestly, after so many rounds, I'm pretty positive you know exactly what you are doing. I know adults who act this way- you've got a long road ahead of you. I'm not the first marriage you've ever planned, not the first girl you've ever tried to beg back. Not the first you've accused of "emotional affairs," and I'm not the first woman to have "saved you." I am definitely not the first you couldn't ever live without, because guess what, fucker, you're still living without any of us.

Calling someone "babe" is not going to get you what you want. It's like nails on a chalkboard, now. Do you even know my name? I have one. Your ex had the same name too, it's not that hard.

Your life is almost a comedy. You make yourself the "walking punch line" you want pity for being. You want pity for other people's problems. You want pity for your old habits. You want pity for people cheating on you. When your definition of cheating is calling an ex. Sick, sick, you make me sick. If I would have dated a woman, I would have still had less drama than I ever had with you.

Blah, blah, blah. I'm sick of talking about it. I just wish I could give you a piece of my mind, and laugh in your face. It'd be revenge that is good enough for me.