the world from the side of the moon.

chp. 1

dear future me.

okay, i lied. this isn't where the story will start.

i was born in a hospital in Brooklyn, the same hospital that ned vizzini was in roughly five years later. i lived in the most boring of the five boroughs; queens, only to move to a town in jersey. such an interesting life, right?

i met my best friend in second grade, and i guess we pretty much considered each other sisters. i'm proud to say that i was there when she needed me, and she should be ashamed to say that she was never really there for me

that's not the point. i'm not here to talk about how our friendship went down the drain. actually, that's exactly what i want to do...

ignorance really is bliss, especially for her. i know i'm not the only one who thinks shes annoying, but i'm the only one who doesn't think twice before saying it to her face. honestly, i don't think i ever did say that to her...okay, that's not the point either. the point is, she hangs out with these people, considers them her friends, when they aren't. when they don't like her, but won't show it.

bottom line, she annoys them, they complain about her, and somehow she finds out. what does she do? address them to their face? text them? nope. post a rant on instagram.

i can't even process that. like when on earth did you decide that that's the way to deal with your problems. post about your problems on instagram, and you'll have your 'friends' backing you up! sounds foolproof! if that's how everyone plans to deal with their problems, kill me, because i do not want to live among idiots like that. ((now i guess i shoudln't talk, as i'm writing about it as well, but i do not intend for her to see this. i do not intend for anyone i know to see this. except maybe a few people, but that's not the point...))

in all those rants, she has blamed me, and made me seem like i was the only one who ever said anything to her. you have got to be kidding me.

dear emily.

at least tag me in those posts, so i can make sure to see them before you delete them. tell me all the bad things i've done to my face, instead of lying to it. don't throw your friends under the bus, and say you're talking about them. i know those rants are about me, i'm not stupid. but i also know i haven't done anything to you. i don't know where you're coming up with all that, because i don't remember spreading rumors about you. i don't remember making fun of your new friends. i don't remember saying anything about the way you dress. i don't remember any of that, because it never happened.

so please, next time you think about saying anything to me about talking about you behind your back, don't. just don't. because i am sick of you trying to play innocent. i see the way you act and talk around these new friends, and i know this isn't the real you. but that's okay. i don't care. we aren't friends again and we aren't going to be. that's good. i don't care about you anymore.

when i talked to you, you told me to look at myself and see how much i've changed. i don't know if i've changed or not, but i know you did.

in the end, it's up to you. it's your life, do whatever the fuck you want, and i'll do the same. just leave me alone already. please.

signed,

6th february 2014