Lovely things? Fuck lovely things, this is one of the safest places for a spewing of verbal diarrhoea. I just spelt that corrrectly. However I have spelt correctly incorrectly. There's an irony there.
There's no such thing as a nice person. Oh my god it feels good to say something bad and everyone will agree with me, at some point in their life. If they don't agree yet then I shall prepare my I Told You So Smile - see below.
And the next party I see them together at, I know it'll be her I'm checking out and not him, and I wonder what he'll make of that. I've already got my face sorted; that sugar sweet smile and sparkling eyes he used to love. He still loves...? I don't care any more.
If only life was like the movies and I could trust them to keep quiet whilst I read my lines...
"Really? You really think it's lovely to see me here, dear? Because I thought you'd have preferred it if I just didn't exist. In fact, if I just go ahead and give him his virginity back, then you could take it and, I mean, that's what you wanted all along, right?"
"Oh, and no, I didn't read the texts she sent you when I had your phone for the night. Even though when you texted her, drunk, from my phone, whilst I was out in the cold, you were too inebriated to remember what you were saying but knew enough about my phone to delete the messages that you two exchanged that night.
It's funny when you think about it just how much you didn't tell me until you were absolutely forced to... if you didn't know about Saturday you'd never have told me how low you'd sunk. It would still have happened, but now you're a worse person for it."
And I'm a worse person for thinking all of that. But I'm never going to say it. That party meeting isn't going to happen. Or rather it is, and I'll still be smiling, but they won't know why. I hope I scare the crap out of them.