375° for 45

I’m done.
I’m cooked.
I’m burnt.
I’m tired.
I’m tired of people who think that they have a free pass to comment on my life, and that they have any right to try to tell me how I should live.

Don’t tell me to “get out there and meet someone new”. I have someone. Whether you approve or not, doesn’t matter to me.
If I ever require your advice – I’ll ask for it. Until then… Remember how I don’t talk much anymore?

There’s a reason for that.

I’m burnt. Burnt out on the guilt trips. Stop making my silence “my fault”. It’s not me trying to punish, it’s me – Wanting to be left alone for a damned minute or 5.  I so seldom get time, to myself, to do what I want – Take Garbo’s words and apply them to my latest profile pic.
I WANT TO BE ALONE.

I’m cooked.
I’m so over being the bad guy all the time. Just because I’m not picking up all the toys scattered throughout the house; the clothes (size 3t), left lying wherever they were removed; not doing all the dishes all the damned time. I’m tired of having to be the one who has to say “no” to everything, & the one who gets the dirty looks when I ask that others chip in and CLEAN THEIR OWN MESS.  Sick a fork in me – Cause…

I’m done.
I’m done with men who think I’m only good for “right now”, but not good enough for keeps.
I’m tired of people who just walk out of my life without so much as a backwards glance, then think they can just pick up where we left off and it’s not going to affect me.