So, I'm angry.

I'm VERY angry right now.

A friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) was looking for somebody to go to the bar with him and his girlfriend. I had just gotten home from Starbucks (dorm was being noisy so I took my study notes and left) and found him wandering around. I said I would be happy to go to the bar with him, as long as I didn't have to meet him there and/or go to the bar by myself.

I'm an eighteen year old girl. I know better than to go to a bar on a Saturday night by myself. I have a brain, I use said brain to keep myself safe.

He said that was fine, that we'd all be meeting at the dorm and going from there. I say okay, I go get ready.

Ten thirty, I text him to tell him I'm ready to go when he is, he just needs to text me to tell me where to meet him and his girlfriend and we'd all catch a cab together. He texts me back saying OKAY.

An hour and fifteen minutes pass, I'm still waiting for him. So I text him again at 11:45 to see what the deal is, when we're all heading to the bar. He texts me back and where is he?

He's at the fucking bar already.

The bastard fucking forgot me.

I'm an understanding person. I can forgive a lot, I can let a lot of things slide. When I am going out of my way, putting aside my personal interests (studying for my exams, in this instance) in order to do something for somebody else, and that gets thrown back in my face? Nuh-uh, not gonna fly.

He wanted somebody else there with him, aside from his girlfriend, because said girlfriend was open and honest about being a social butterfly and said, yes, I'm going to dance with my friends, most of which are guys, please don't get jealous sweetie. He wanted somebody else there he could hang out with - as a friend, somebody to lean on, somebody for support.

I offered to do that for him, setting aside the three exams I need to study for and all the boxes I still have to pack so I'm ready to move into my new house, and he forgot me.

He kept saying he was sorry over texts, but I, quite frankly, didn't care. I was - and still am - so angry, I couldn't see straight. I've ended friendships over far less. I've worked my butt off to help him, to give him advice, to be there for him whenever he needs me . . . and then he just forgets me.

I don't know if I'll be able to forgive him. I'm angry and I'm hurt and I know for a fact that he doesn't understand exactly what I'm angry and hurt about, because he's dense like that.

I've put down my ninja coffee cup for the night. Rye and Cokes, double shots, no ice. All alone in my dorm room, while I'm packing to move into my new house, and in between reading chapters of Intro to Socio-Cultural Anthropology.



Peace,
Emily Grace