Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

It's been a long time coming, but I'm closing this blog.  You can probably have foreseen that from the years of no posts, but I'm making it official because those things matter, or something.  I have no use for reminders of affections that make me ill to think of today, or memoirs of the prat I used to be.  I am a far different person today than I once was, and intend to keep heading in that direction, but I'm not going to do too well at that if I'm still clinging onto the past.

However, I will keep the posts detailing the end days of Ben and I's relationship/friendship/what the fuck ever, simply because someday I'm going to have to make explanations and I'd rather have hard evidence instead of relying on (rapidly lapsing) memory. But everything else goes.  It's been fun or whatever, and I'm going to be pissed off at losing all the effort I put into maintaining this, but I just can't with this entire blog any more.

Again? Orly?

(context)

We didn't end on good terms, I'm not about to deny that.  Whose fault that is, is entirely up to you.  See, my trying to teach you to be responsible and, you know, a touch more mature turned out to be absolutely failed.  My trying to tell you that Shannyn was not interested in you went completely ignored.  My trying to teach you to take responsibility for your schoolwork, failed utterly.  What do you want me to do, bog myself down with you?

I am, actually, taking all my anger out on you.  I'll concede this point.  But you know why?  You're the only person, in my life, at this moment in time, able and willing to create so much strife.  The only person, in fact, able and willing to so freely dismiss the teachings of others, choosing to be self-indulgent and self-pitying, then wondering why everyone walks away.  It's a cycle only you can break.  I won't be around to feed you sympathy.  Suck it up, grow up, or live alone.  Those are your only two options, Benjamin, and continuing to hate me because you refuse to make something better of yourself does not reflect well on you.

And you can't stop me from falling apart
'Cause my self-destruction is all your fault

I didn't make you contact Shannyn.  In fact, I was one of the many who warned you against it, tried to stay your hand.

How could you, how could you, how could you hate me?
When all I ever wanted to be was you?
How could you, how could you, how could you love me?
When all you ever gave me were open wounds?

I don't hate you, nor do I particularly love you after your continual inability to understand when enough was enough.  I am, however, particularly irate at the way you seem utterly incapable of being your own person.  Understand, I never wanted you to be anything but yourself, but a mature, responsible version of yourself.  Apparently, this is beyond your grasp; how else do you explain the oft-repeated apologies that mean nothing, once the same act of error has been repeated ad libitum, or the equally-endless "I know, I'll do better"s?

Doesn't matter what I do
Nothing's gonna change
I'm never good enough

Nothing is going to change until I can trust you to be responsible.  That trust isn't going to come easily.  I gave you the benefit of the doubt, and you trampled clean over that.  You're perfectly capable of it, nothing gives you any kind of excuse to be as much of an immature twit as you have been lately.  Other people cope with shit, too, and we do it without exhibiting the same kind of sybaritic, "I'll do as I please and you'll forgive me" behaviour as you've shown lately.

Tell me why you broke me down and betrayed my trust in you
I'm not giving up, giving in when will this war end?
When will it end??

I didn't break you down.  I told you how to improve, so that people don't actually feel like throttling you because of how irresponsible you've been.  I didn't betray your trust in me, you betrayed my trust in you, and caused me to desire little more than to leave.

This ends here.  Any replies you wish to make to me, be a man and make it to my face.  Instead of sneaking around behind my back, and putting it all up on the interwebz first.  Remember, you began this.  You began this, and I'm ending this.

Your move.

Posted via web from youretrulypre.posterous

::headdesk::

(context)

Everybody does stupid things.

Not everybody does recklessly irresponsible things that could have killed someone.  Not everyone then goes and brags about it.  I do stupid things, too.  I have yet to do something so stupidly lax that I could have seriously harmed someone, and then gone bragging about it.

It's not lonely up here, no.  Know why?  I'm not the only one who thinks your stunt was a stupid-ass idea.  You have only yourself to blame for this mess, Benjamin.  I'm not being the "responsible" one for you any more.  I'm through with reminding you time and time again to study, knowing full well you'd dog on yourself for not getting top marks.  I'm through with having to set limits for you, tell you what behaviour is and is not acceptable.  It's a role I never should have taken on to begin with.

I'm not better than anyone, that's true, and you know I personally consider myself a pretty horrid person.  But tell me, are you enjoying being reckless all by yourself there?  Are you okay with the potential consequences of your actions?  Let's list it here.  Worst case scenario, you'd have gotten a child killed, seeing as how they're substantially smaller than us and less able to hold even the standard drink or less that's in jello shots.  Best case scenario, they'd be horribly sick for hours.  Congratu-fucking-lations, you caused a child harm.  You know what alcohol is, it's fucking poison, the effects it has on the human body is from being poisoned, and you thought it was a good idea to teach a child what inebriation was without their knowledge or consent?  Are you fucking retarded?

Seems everytime I try, you find something to bring me down. Something that can temporarily destroy me. And you use it to the best of your ability.

Um, reminding you of how naïve and bloody thick you were being isn't bringing you down.  It's telling you what you should have known all along.  Had you the willingness or ability to temper your own actions to minimise the harm you cause, I wouldn't have need to "temporarily destroy [you]".  Had you half an ounce of responsibility, I wouldn't need to do that at all.  You brought my wrath, and by proxy, the wrath of a shit-ton of confused and irate parents, upon yourself.

But you don't care any more. I do. I've always cared.

You cared so much that you'd enforce your opinion and presence on me, even when it was unwanted?  You'd choose to make yourself a recluse, then complain that I did not?  Cared so much that you'd denigrate our mothers, who gave us life (and yours, who gave you nearly everything else), and Brian, who gave you assistance whenever you needed it, because I wouldn't listen to your version of reason?  If that's "caring", then I want none of it.

When you called and said you took pills while I was in another country, i thought I would never see you again. Nothing has scared me more.

It was floor-cleaner, and you called me.  If you must include an anecdote, at least get the details straight.

When I caught the early bus without you, because I was hanging with Richard. You took the pills and I had an ambulance called for you. When you cancelled that ambulance, I was terrified.

I didn't want an ambulance called for me.  I was perfectly happy to wallow.  If I recall, it was your mother that called the ambulance, not you.  And don't be phrasing it like it was your fault, you know very well it wasn't.

In either case, don't be saying it like you were even partially responsible for my getting well.  I pulled myself out of each rut, by myself: the first time, because I was at Stepping Stones, and it was do or die; and the second, because I'd managed to cobble something resembling myself back from everything that I destroyed.  Let me be perfectly clear, Ben: telling me what I wanted to hear then, and again with Brian, and many things I didn't want to hear, is not helpful to either my opinion of you, or to my recovery rate.

And hey, guess what?  With your absence, I have recovered.  Whether this be just a mere coincidence in events, or whether it be because I actually (gasp) did better without your "help", I don't know.  But oh look, I'm finally in a position in life where I am stable and happy.  Where I am not merely putting on a façade to please you or the masses.  And what do you do?  Instead of being happy for me, you rag on me for daring to be happy without you.  For daring to have friends I'd rather spend time with, than you.  For, of all things, something I should have been able to have while I was with you, both as a partner and as a friend, but could not for fear of leaving you alone.  You dug yourself a pit of solitary.  You can dig yourself back out.  Lord knows every warning, every instruction I've ever thrown at you for making things better has gone completely AWOL.

---

I've grown awfully weary, Benjamin, of playing these stupid games with you.  Of your beliefs that things are just going to go back to normal, that we're going to be bestest buddies again, when I've got other friends that appear to value my opinion enough to actually listen to what I want and respect that.  Of having to continually be your moral compass, your motivation for getting work done, and when you ignored everything I said and bashed yourself for it, of being the one to boost you back up.  Yeah, I can't do that any more, and I can't see why I should need to.  The survival of this relationship, as of late, has become increasingly dependent on my ability to ignore the stupid shit you do.

You know what?  I don't care any more.  I cared when you were failing, I cared when you were flagging, but now that you've endangered lives and violated respect and trust?  I see no reason to carry on this friendship with you.  When you've matured some, when you can make an argument without "I've done this for you in the past, and you've done fuck all for me", remember that I was there and tried to make you take some goddamned responsibility for yourself and grow the fuck up, and you chose to ignore me, Brian, Adam, and everyone else.  You dug yourself into this pit, and you can dig yourself out of it.

I'm through.

Posted via web from youretrulypre.posterous

So, tf?

Okay, I'll concede I did wrong by not first asking you for permission to haul other people into it.

But knowing your propensity for making plans that begin with a perfectly good premise and end with "Nah, can't be bothered" or a similar, conclusive phrase, I felt as if it would be okay for me to ask others to be involved.  More people = less work.  Not once did you directly mention to me, "Linh, I don't want this to be a project where you bring in other people."  Not once did you raise the issue with me, choosing instead to simply ignore the other people involved.

Then you go tell me I have no right to do this.  Fine.  Not once did you actually outright tell me any of this, choosing to instead complain about it now when it's a tad late to call everyone and cancel.  But that's okay, I'll just tell Shane and that that we're all out.  And so now out of spite or whatever, you're out too.  Christ almighty.

I had no right to try to get a project you wanted done, done?  I had no right to try to make the last week for my friends and yours great?  I had no right to maybe put you in a position where you can become friends with my friends, instead of you just telling me they're "not your type of people"?  Christ almighty, Ben, I've seen you with my group maybe 5 times in the entire time we've known them, and that's a generous estimate.  How the heck do you know they're not your type of people?

And then you come out of the blue, guns blazing, telling me I'd won and you hope you'll never see me again.  Won what, precisely?  A competition I had no idea was happening?  An argument where I'd already conceded wrong and backed out?

Mad, you are.  And I'm beginning to think I'm a little mad myself for attempting to make things actually easy for you to integrate you into my circle, for telling Kimmy and Tash to cut you slack.  Not that you ever cut them any.  Not that you made any discernible effort to actually be friends with my friends.

Here, for you.

Insane, Damien Rice

Should I speak?
Should I bother shaking hands?
Am I weak If I leave it as it stands?
I've submerged
And I've surfaced with the blame
I guess I'm no good, I guess I'm insane

Should I go, if she calls out my name?
And if she bleeds, should I wipe up the stain?
And if I'm low, can I drown in this rain?
I guess I'm no good, I guess I'm insane

And I hate when you say
That I never fight for you
Sometimes you breathe
All over my scar
And you always end up
Closer than close
That's where I give in

Should I confess
The actions of a hand
In my mind
I'll betray you once again
Why should I climb?
What is there to gain?
This is no good
This is insane

And I hate when you say
That I never fight for you
Sometimes you breathe
All over my scar
And you always end up
Closer than close
That's whenre I give in

You're taking, you're taking
You're taking me down
You're taking, you're taking
You're taking me down
And you always end up
Closer than close
That's where I give in

I've been playing this the way you wanted pretty much entirely.  You wanted to be there, I let you be there.  You wanted me wherever, I let you be wherever.  You wanted to come over, I coerced my parents to allow it to happen.  I put more on the line for you than you realise, risking my friendships, severing friendships, pushing the envelope with my family, to allow you to be in as close a proximity to me as was possible for you to be comfortable.  And apparently, that's still not enough.

You want me gone?  Fine.  I'm gone.

Posted via web from youretrulypre.posterous

Trials

Of hell, maybe.

Monday wasn't too bad, I managed to get pretty much all the math equations (er, except that weird integration multi-choice one).

Yesterday, I walked out of English because of severe nausea (probably brought on by my own non-eating idiocy).  Physics wasn't completely horrid, but I think there were a number of questions I missed.

Then we get to today.  Chem was... in a word, horrible.  I walked in there, and everything flew out of my head.  What byproducts of ammonia production?  The equation is just N_2(g) + 3H_2(g) → 2NH_3(g).  There are no byproducts.  For the production of H2, yeah, but that's different.  ::sigh::

I did find this absolutely hilarious, though.  I think I play too many RPGs :\

I'm kind of woozy.  I'd sleep, but eh, I don't want to miss Brian, and there's no-one who can wake me.  I think Van's moved out, though, given how there's a lot of her stuff still here, she's probably nowhere near done.  I've heard nothing from Dad about throwing her out, so, I don't know.  Whatever, I can't afford to emotionally invest in their business as well as my own.

My butterfly earrings arrived this morning.  :)  Here's a photo of them, off the eBay listing (I cropped it.  I can't stand excess whitespace):

Pretty, eh?  :)  Tanzanite and 18k white-gold plating.  And all for $12.99, plus free shipping, too.

Online shopping is great.  I've bought birthday presents for Bina, and Christmas presents (yes, already) for Bina, Kimmy, and Tash.  I already have a birthday present for Ben, but I still need to get him something for Christmas.  Am still working on something for Brian.  Love, what do you want for Christmas?

I might get me some more cháo.  I'm really hungry, all of a sudden, and I think if I don't eat, Brian just might yell.  :P  Tschau.

Posted via web from youretrulypre.posterous