Not On My Watch

It’s not going to happen. You’re not going to get away with it. Not on my watch. I’ve waited and bided my time and I’ve taken your side for too long. Like warships of old, I’ve floated in the fog waiting for the moment when I’m broadside to your bullsh*t so I could take you down. And now, I say, open fire, boys, open fire.

Some of the most self-serving well-wishers mean only to excuse themselves from their own weakness instead of being honest with themselves and consequently, with others. Those apologists will make any promise in lieu of what they might get in return and, in the end, should be viewed as confused, negligent or, in your case, malicious fiends.

No flowery tome can excuse the proffer and promise of friendship and stalwart companionship through thick and thin when your actions say, “Oops – here’s a thin spot – I’m outta here.” This is what you wanted, I knew it and told you so, over and over again and instead of fighting, one day I stopped and, sure enough, you flew your true colours. Coward.

You can’t apologise for leaving me in the breach. You can’t apologise for 360-ing your promises. You can’t apologise for what was, in toto, just a manipulation. You just can’t. Funny thing is, I knew I couldn’t and shouldn’t trust you, but I did and I got killed for it emotionally – again.

So, yes, I’m an ass. Yes, life is imperfect. Yes, you chose to through away opportunity after opportunity and no, that’s not my responsibility or my fault. You chose to throw me away, by e-mail, phone, action, will, thought and deed.

Look into your own motivation and recant yourself. I can respect you if you do, otherwise, like you said, “you’re dead to me.”