Self Control

Still ranting… almost done.

There is a difference between cowardice and refusing to give energy to someone behaving like a petulant child. Remember that?

Why I’ve never yelled at or confronted you over the years as we’ve bumped into one another? It’s not cowardice. It’s a little thing called:

You don’t deserve the minimal amount of energy it takes to type this out, I certainly am not going to give you any more by meeting with you or replying to your unwarranted messages. Trust me, Pants. As much as I would love to get my teeth fixed for free and see you lose your medical license after an assault charge you are not worth the time nor effort. You’re like three times my size in height and weight. I’m not going to “win” in a physical confrontation, but I sure as hell can survive. Bruises fade and bones heal. I’m not the least bit concerned about you harming me physically or otherwise. You lost the privilege of face to face conversations the moment that knife punctured my tire and knocked you on your ass in my parents driveway.

You really need to make up your mind with the accusations by the way. Am I a coward for not confronting you in person, or am I a stalker who’s following you around everywhere?

Truthfully, I’m neither. I’m a woman who’s so very fed up with your bullshit and disrespect of my very reasonable boundaries. You know, like: don’t fucking vandalize my property and terrorize my children by throwing a damn temper tantrum just because you didn’t get to see my face when you rattled off your nonsense accusations.