Dear You

You parade yourself like some smart ass authority. When you’re in one place you make sure everybody knows your presence by speaking loudly, at full volume even at a two-inch distance. Oh yes, you love to throw your weight around. Everyone must know you’re important. "We" is a strange word to you because you only know of the pronouns "I" and "Me". You tell people stories about yourself that make them drop their jaws in admiration. Who cares if they’re true or pure fibs? These people wouldn’t know anyway. Or so you think. And because you think you’re so "smart", you reckon people should also smarten up by thinking and acting the way you do.

You were all these when I met you and you still are. I didn’t care because that’s the person you turned out / chose to be. When it comes to you, I couldn’t care less.

I wish that the feeling is mutual. Don’t stick your nose in to things that concern me. Don’t talk about me. Don’t care, because when you do, it’s so easy to hate you.