dear: boy who broke my sad drunken heart

It happened well over a week ago but I'm still livid about it.
so,
Letter.


To whom it may concern,

You couldn't even apologize to my face - despite having the better part of a day to do it - so I don't really feel I owe you the decency of saying this to yours. First, I'm not angry because you were being a drunken insecure jerk on the one day that was supposed to be mine. I'm fucking miffed at what you said and what it implied. Just in case you don't remember, you nakedly confessed that you think you're better than every last person who was there. You then proceeded to denounce that I am, in fact, exactly like them. I think you know where I'm going with this.
Well I think it is high time you learned something. You are not superior to me. Nor are you superior to my sister or her friends, or acquaintances and strangers alike. Plain and simply. You are not better. In any way, shape, or form. All you are is luckier.
The second you laid your eyes on those people you judged their appearances and their words and, much to my utter disgust, their worth. When you first apologized I said it was OK because it hadn't really sunk in yet and I was still wanting to believe that my friend wasn't - couldn't be - that shallow. They are human beings for crying out loud. People you deemed not worth your precious time because of conflicting interests. They are human beings who know pain. Real pain. The kind that you can only know if you've experienced it. They know that pain is not some upper/middle class boy who can't get chicks. Pain is a child who cries herself to sleep night after night wondering why her Daddy doesn't love her, what she did wrong to make him not want her anymore. It is witnessing what addiction does to people, having your family torn apart, it is being neglected, beaten, used, abused - things you have never and will never know. Pain is the broken lives that stem from broken homes. You do not know their circumstances, you do not know their stories, and you clearly do not know what it is to feel as though the only way you're able to make it through one more day is to escape, be it via drugs or alcohol with those who's pain you have in common.
I should have seen it earlier. I am really quite embarrassed that I didn't clue in until you flat out confessed what you truly think of me. I am sorely tempted to return the favor, to tell you what I now think of you. Instead I will just say that my opinion of you has changed completely, and I will leave it at that.
I will put up with a lot of shit from the people I love but I am resolute when it comes to the line what is: being told I am lesser than for reasons in which I have no control over. I have no say in the hand I've been delt, just as everyone else in the world has no say. Yes, we have a say in how we deal with it, but when you know only one way to deal, that's the way you're going to deal.
It is not your fault you weren't brought up knowing more about the real world and the challenges people face. But it is your fault for being so damn ignorant about it.
Look down on me all you want, but at least I know what the fuck I am and that is an imperfect being.

So you can just take all your shallow judgments, stick 'em in the back pocket of your hundred dollar jeans, and skip with them all the way back to your beautifully sheltered life where they belong.


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