Although There's Pain In My Chest, I Still Wish You The Best With A "F*** YOU!!!"

Sorry I've been blogging even less regularly than usual, but I've needed this last week for reflection. After BGF pretty much broke my heart, I needed a bit of time to think...and cry...and think more. And since y'all are my REAL friends (TAKE THAT, BGF!), I would like to share what I have realized over the last week with you.

1. He is mean.
This was the stage I went through a couple of hours after it happened. I cried into my pillow, got mascara everywhere, and broke down over the phone to a friend who is fortunate enough to not know him personally. HOW COULD HE DO THAT TO ME?!
(Song of the stage: "Dear John," by my fellow girl-next-door, Taylor Swift)

2. He is MEAN.
At this point, I didn't get SAD, I got MAD! Not just mad, PISSED!!! I gave him a whole year of my life, wasting my time being around him, trying to get him to like me, and mostly trying to melt his cold, icy heart. And what did I get?! I got public humiliation, that's WHAT!
(Song of the stage: "Mean," also by Taylor Swift. ...what? It fits the feelings!)

3. He is undeserving of my time as long as he remains under the impression I am unworthy of his.
Pretty self-explanatory. This realization was accompanied by a phase in which I glared at him, trash-talked him to a different friend (who is ALSO fortunate enough to not know him), and pretty much just vented. That led me to...
(Song of the stage: "I Can Do Better," by Avril Lavigne)

4. Although he is a spineless, horrid little weasel, he is stuck in my life all freaking year. And I can't get away from him.
...and that thought just depressed me all over again.
(Song of the stage: "Grenade," by a true gentleman, Bruno Mars)

Today, I hit my fifth stage of grief:

Acceptance.

To be more specific, acceptance of the fact that said spineless, horrid little weasel is playing the stupid Moonlight Sonata. And that a depressed, unmotivated little weasel-ette will be unable to NOT watch his performance. Because she loves that damn Moonlight Sonata.
(Song of the stage: ...did you not just read ANY of that?! MOONLIGHT SONATA, you goofballs!)

And when the weasel plays a piano with his nice little weasel fingers, the weasel and the weasel-ette are close again. Because the weaselly music doesn't drive them apart, it pushes them back together.

WEASELS SUCK.