So I took a few days off, which is seemingly counterintuitive to my feeble attempts at writing every day, but I had to take my finals and I was just too fried.
It’s actually a good thing I didn’t write during finals, because then I never would’ve read the strangest Missed Connection I’ve ever seen.
If you ever go on Craigslist and see the Missed Connections, you will see a lot of titles like “A Barista for my Birthday?” or “I think I’m in love with you!”.
I saw one entitlesd simply: Why. Ugh.
It was not really a missed connection, but a rant about man who had hurt this poor woman.
Here’s the text:
- do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers
20. Missed Connections: If you go to Craigslist, there is a “Missed Connections” section where you can find some interesting story lines to inspire your writing.
I loved you once. God, I loved you more than I loved him! You said I shouldn’t have loved him because he hurt me too much, but I loved him despite the pain. I even thought I was nobler for it. Do you know how hard it was to live through him? Or rather, to live around him, because he somehow occupied the center of my life and the only thing left for me was a scant perimeter and a few miniscule cracks. You knew how much it hurt to chisel him away, to be left with no center. You were the one who I was going to fill myself with.
So what the hell? You were going to be there for me! You were the one who said “forever and always” as though it were some magical phrase that could ignite fireworks and build bridges across infinite seas to connect to a small, distant island. forever and always became my mantra. I recited it with every breath, every kiss, every list caress.
I never knew forever and always could be such a finite length of time.
When it was over and done with, you said it was because you couldn’t wait. I thought you could, because if you really meant forever and always, you wouldn’t mind waiting until I was ready before you had your way with me. How the hell could you do this to me? What the fuck is your problem? Can’t you see these scars? Don’t you remember when you would count them, but you would count them backwards? I would ask you why, and you said it was because you were going to make them all go away, as if your magic kisses for smooth them back into the supple flesh I once had.
There are more now. You can’t see it, but there are more.
You made me feel like some beautiful antiquity, like I was this amazing glass vase, to be held up and loved by you, but the moment I told you no, you dropped me. You didn’t even sweep up the pieces, didn’t even try to superglue me together. A glass vase can’t fix herself, you know.
I don’t need you. I never needed you. I thought I did, I thought I couldn’t stand another moment being alone and sad and broken, but now I’ve seen the fire in the coals. I understand now. I am an independant human being with a free will, and I now choose to exert this free will upon you.
Never come back here. Don’t you dare look at me again. Don’t you dare even say my name. I will cut your tongue off the second I hear the first puff of air directed towards me.
You are not some God. You are not my savior.
You are a worm, squiggling around the hot sidewalk, trying to burrow your way in before the sun fries you up like it has to so many of your friends.
I am the sun.
You should’ve been nicer, asshole.