| No Respect, No Love |
| Josh paced around his room. He was pissed. And he could only think of one thing to do to fix it. Write. He got out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote what he was feeling. I am so annoyed right now. Why can�t she respect me? Well, she doesn�t respect my choice of music, but that�s who I am, so it�s the same as not respecting me. I�m so angry at her. She makes fun of *Nsync all the time and doesn�t care how I feel about it. Or maybe she just doesn�t realize that it hurts when she makes fun. I thought I�d gotten used to the teasing. But I really haven�t yet. I�m fricken sick of it. How she mocks lines from the songs that I spent a lot of time to write. How she makes fun of performances that we spend days working on. It fucking sucks. Am I just a wimp? Probably. Here I am, whining like a two year old. Why can�t I just suck it up and ignore her? Because I value her opinion, that�s why. Actually, I�m just a loser. Oh, I�m sure all the fans would feel so sorry for me. �Aww, how sad, his girlfriend doesn�t like his music. Who the fuck cares?� Well, I do. More than I should, too. I should tell her that it bothers me. Maybe she�d stop poking fun. Or maybe she�d just laugh at me. I�m afraid of her reaction. I mean, how humiliating would it be if I told her how I feel about the teasing and she laughed? That would suck. And she probably would, too. So now I�m trying to preserve my pride? What�s wrong with that? Oh, why am I kidding myself. I�m just being a pussy about this. I think I have multiple personalities. One�s saying to just confront her. And the other�s saying to leave it alone. Maybe it�s not multiple personalitles�. Maybe I have an angel and a devil sitting on my shoulders. But which one�s the angel? And which is the devil? Damn it. I need to get a life. Maybe one is my heart talking and the other is my head. Again, which one�s which? I�d think confronting her would be my brain, telling me to do the sensible thing. But it could be my heart, telling me to suck it up. But my heart could be the one telling me to suck it up, in fear of being hurt. But my brain could be telling me to leave it alone for the same reason. Ugh. I hate this. Fine, I�ve decided. I�m going to do something about this. But not in person, because I�m not that brave. I�m going to give this to her as a letter. I just have to write �Dear Bobbie� on the top and sign it. Wait, one more thing, Bobbie. I can�t do this anymore. After going over our relationship many times, I�ve decided that I don�t like it. I�m sorry, but we�re done. Goodbye. *Josh* �How do you like my music now, bitch,� Josh thought, folding the paper to put into an envelope. THE END |