Happy, Happy, Birthday...

Ok, why the fuck do I still remember your birthday?  Half the time, I can't remember much more important dates, so why does October 26th, 1976 still seem to be embedded into my memory?

I just want you to know that I've been fighting to let you go....

Yeah, right. I used to pretend that you'd come and sweep me off my feet. But, you never did. So, I changed that pretense into a "chance meeting" where, miraculously, you and I were both single. But, that never happened. Then, I realized that you were never going to come back into my life in any way that would please me, because there were too many unanswered questions.

I'm looking for attention, not another question...

You probably still have no clue how you affected me, or how I cried when I mailed the letter that labelled me a "cold-hearted bitch". You probably don't care. No, I know you don't care. You never did, and that.. I think... is what really kills me... what makes me want revenge... You never even cared how you affected other people who cared about you. And it KILLS me that I still care. I deny it to everyone to the end of the earth, but it's true. I do care.

Have you no shame? Don't you see me?

Why the fuck do I care? Because I care about other people in general? No, although that is true. I care about you specifically. And it's weird how I have come to that conclusion. When Shawna was staying here for those few weeks, she and I would sometimes drift onto the topic of you, her older brother, her should-be protector. And I got angry. Very angry. I thought I'd let this go a long time ago... About the time I got relabelled by you... But it crept back up inside of me like a knife that had been lying dormant. All the pain, sorrow, tears, resentment, and rejection you gave to me came boiling back to the surface 10 years after the last time we spoke. Then I got pissed. I mean, really, seriously pissed. Your sister had to stop me from driving to Paris to kick your ass a few times. Generally speaking, I don't get that angry about what someone else does or says unless they mean something to me. Therefore, I came to the conclusion that I do actually still care. Ugh! Why?! You were such a dick to me! But, back to the ass-kicking portion....

I wanted to kick your ass for so many reasons...

For slighting me
For making me feel insignificant
For making me feel not good enough
For being the yard-stick by which I measured men for a LONG time
For lying
For being non-committal
For being an irresponsible person
For hurting your family
For making me think I had a chance
For using me to stroke your already enormous ego
For hurting another woman, who isn't nearly as bad as you told me she was... (in fact, she and I are friends now. Doesn't that just piss you off?)
For being a bad influence on your younger brothers and sisters. They now have problems that can be linked to your bad behavior.
For seriously, and possibly permanently, damaging one of your sisters, so much so that she has problems in her marriage.

Yeah, I could keep going, but what's the point? I feel this way and you don't give a crap. You never did. You never will. Part of my therapy (yes, I'm in therapy) is that I have to learn to let go of things. I'm totally failing that portion. I can't let things go. So, this is my burden to bear, until I learn to put it down. It really should be shared by you, but you won't even help carry the load. You never will. So why do I bother even writing this? I want you to see it, but I don't. I know that if you do, you're just going to laugh with your barely-legal girlfriend and point and talk about the little girl who "used to stalk you". Dude, I don't stalk. Period. And my actions back then were dictated by your encouragement. Don't get that confused.

K. I'm done. I'm not sure if I'll post this anywhere else. Why bother?