Radio Silence
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I gave my life up for you--
and You--
You couldn't spare five seconds of your precious day to text me back.
No, not a single word to let me know you're at least there.
But, I knew you were there.
Radio Silence.
That's what I get?!
That's what I get for listening to your constant blabber about your hair, your clothes, your shoes, even your stupid boyfriend!
That's what I get for giving you the notes you missed, because you were texting 'the new girl',
who might I add
Has never cleaned your space while you messed around,
Never lent you her only hair tie in gym, so your hair didn't poof up,
Has never given you her last piece of gum so you could talk to Robert with minty breath
Because who do I talk to anyway? Right?
Right!
So why do you feel so obliged to reply immediately to her, when my texts can wait till you're bored, or need the answer to problem 22 on the math homework.
Which is sixteen, by the way.
Is it because she's Pretty?
Is it because she has Money?
Is it her Hair, her Clothes?
Her Shoes?
Because that's what you care about isn't it?
Her Image.
What makes some people more acceptable to you than others?
What makes her more important to text back than me?
Are you embarrassed of me?
"Popular Sally." and Me. Ew.
I cried today, did you know that?
During fifth period in the back of the room.
Did you notice?
Or course you didn't. What a stupid question.
Why look to the back of the room when you're getting the latest dramas?
Why look back when you already know I'm taking your notes?
How is it you always know I'll do them?
What if one day I just stopped?
I won't, but what if?
I'm taking every possible AP class.
Do you not think I have enough work as it is?
Enough stress?
No, you don't.
Because Peter's now dating Melissa, and they're inviting a bunch of friends to Starbucks after school.
But guess who they didn't invite, guess who You didn't think to ask?
That's right, me.
Because "They're not my crowd," and "I don't have the money anyway."
And you're right, about both things.
Because I'm saving every penny I earn to get into a good college, to get a car.
Because Daddy doesn't have a pink sports car in the driveway waiting for my sixteenth birthday.
And you're right.
They aren't my crowd, but neither are you.
I've cried a lot recently, seems like everything's catching up to me.
Oh but don't worry,
I still care if your butt looks good in your new designer jeans.
I'll still be "Your special little friend."
God!
I don't know why I do what I do for you,
Why I've taken your abuse for so long.
But I am done, so done with you, and your perfect little life.
You've done nothing but cause me more pain.
And I know what you're thinking,
" 'Member in 9th grade, when I hooked you up with James?"
Yeah I do. Poor kid, you probably sweet-talked him too.
But just this once. Just this one time.
I'll be waiting for your silence.
Your Radio Silence.
Send.
