Sunday, 23 January 2011

I'm very good at not letting things get to me, or at least not showing that they do. But sometimes it just gets too much and you can't hold it all back anymore. Partly why i started writing because i was fed up holding it in and having it all explode out at once. But this time, i don’t know what it is but my anger disappeared )about the who stupid thing where she wasn’t talking to me over her now ex bf, then taking my idea for a holiday and going without me) and i was sure i was ok with it. It didn't bother me. If that is how you were going to be then fine. But i don’t know; now i actually feel upset about it. I think had the holiday been to somewhere different like maga or something i might not have minded but taking my total idea, that’s just low.

That's two holidays I’ve not been invited on, so surly that means the problem must lie with me.

But when people just turn against you and don’t talk to you about it how are you meant to make things write. Fix things. Change.

Ok so i know one reason that one person doesn’t like me. But i wasn't flirting with your now ex. You claim i was your best friend so surly you should know i wouldn’t do such a thing. I’ve done everything i can to prove that to you said all i could to fix it and still you have a problem with me. Is that really my fault?

Apparently so.

The guys. My real friends - seem to find the whole thing almost laughable, saying girls take things to seriously and are always falling out. Well i haven’t fallen out with anyone!
They think it’s funny to joke and say they are going to fall out with me for no reason just like everyone else. But that just stings and rubs in the fact that I'm now pretty much down to one proper female mate. She has her best friend though and spends all her time with her boyfriend, i know she would be there for me no matter what but she has other priorities.

Can't wait for a fresh start, at uni or even collage, or just working for a year. Anything to meet new people and get away from all this pointless drama.

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