peroxidepirate: (still NO)
[personal profile] peroxidepirate
Dear Wednesday,

Fuck you. Fuck you hard, with sharp objects.

We're through, do you hear me, Wednesday? It's over.

And do you know why? You lied to me, Wednesday. You promised me you weren't like Thursday; you said you weren't unpredictable and you promised you'd never try to be bad-ass like Friday and Saturday. You said you were as slow and steady as Tuesday. You said being with you wouldn't get in the way of my other activities. You said you weren't needy.

You lied.

It's all lies.

I can't take it anymore. At least Monday and Thursday were honest about being bipolar. I know, going in, that Thursday will be a clingy bitch one week and an easy-going sweetheart another. If I expect it, I can deal.

But Wednesday, you're already swearing that this was just a(nother) fluke. I can hear you.

I'm not buying it anymore. It's over. I'm going back to Thursday. You'd better find somebody else to deal with your lies.

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