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Friends have lovingly dubbed this my 'bitchy journal', since this is where most of my vengeful, spiteful, not-as-socially-acceptable thoughts are stored. Everybody has them, and mine go here. This journal, rather than just my angry rants, is also a place to write freely. I lay it all down here, and I disregard the reality that it might offend others, or shed an unflattering light upon me. This is one such entry that may cast me in such a light, but I write it because, it's me, I'm not always a delicate flower, and you have to take the whole fucking garden, weeds and all.
That said, I feel bad for someone who is getting exactly what they deserve, less in fact. She's being evicted, after over a year of not paying rent. If the house was not owned by family, she'd have been thrown out months ago. This is someone who works the system, someone who screwed me over, up, down, and sideways. This is someone who never had to answer for any of her mistakes, someone who disregarded all possible consequences and still managed to keep afloat, until now.
I often wondered when the myriad of bad decisions she's made in her life would catch up with her, and secretly hoped, for her sake, that it would not be all at once. She's walking a thin tightrope, both with her life and her own sanity, and no matter how much I want to, I can't be happy to see her fall.
She's crying today, packing up boxes, throwing away memories, crying in an empty house alone. Part of me wants to run to her and tell her everything will be ok, but that is a lie that I wouldn't tell and she wouldn't believe. I guess, once you love someone, you always kind of love them, in some way or another. I want to be hard, uncaring, watching her pain, unblinking and attentive, savoring the moment when she loses one of the rare things in this life she actually cared about, other than herself. I want to be this person, and I am not.
My pity should be reserved for those who are beaten down, who've tried to pick themselves up, who've worked entire lifetimes to get nowhere, for those who do not solicit it. I pity this vile creature, this monster of a girl, wet cheeks atop a mound of trash that once was a life with some promise. I pity this thing, because I know there is a sliver of light in the darkness, a small speck of good that the evil hasn't tarnished. It is this part that cries, it is this part I loved, it is this part I am sad for. This small part, that seems to get smaller every day. One day, like everything else, it may be gone forever.
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