Burned

When you play with fire, you get burned. Translation: when you date a drug dealer that fights people for fun, you get hurt in the end. I knew I was going to get hurt. That's why I broke up with him. I never thought the majority of the pain would come after we broke up.

A week after I broke up with him, he started dating my best friend. My best friend who he always made fun of. Sorry to say this Ashleigh babe, but truth is he was just trying to get back at me. I forgive Ashleigh because i knew from experience how girls get around this guy. They tend to overlook the billion and one reasons that he's the absolute incarnation of Satan's spawn. I told her I'd never trust her but for the most part, I got over it. I was mad as hell at him, however. All I could think was, "How dare you fuck with me?!" But after he told another one of my friends he wanted to kill me, I got really nice really quick. I'm not sure if he has the guts to do it, but I refuse to be one of those girls you hear about in the paper. The ones who get killed because their guys have the whole, "If I can't have you no one can" mentality. No offence, but my mama always told me white boys are crazy as hell.

And though I'm trying to take all of this with a grain of salt, it sucks that I'm going through all this drama with someone I ended it with. I thought that breaking up with him would make my life less complicated. Who the hell was I kidding?! I guess my point is when you do things that you know are wrong (i.e. going out with a douche bag) it comes back to bite you in the ass.