He Won't Go AWAY

[syeira]

I know I was a sadistic bitch. I knew I was horrible at relationships. I knew I had issues. But I did not know why that bastard wouldn't leave me alone! I dumped him like, a month ago. And our most recent encounter hd been just as terrible as the last.

"Hey baby, if I could change the alphabet, I'd put U and I together." He'd said. I had narrowed my peridot eyes and glared. "Well I'd put F and U together." I replied venomously. Looking sulky, he'd slunk off to his Volvo and driven away, to go think up another corny pickup line. I had promptly hopped into my shiny red Corvette and driven in the opposite direction, towards the nearest bar. I needed some vodka.

The encounter before that hadn't been much better. But right now, my cell phone was vibrating. I flipped it open and read my newest text message; guess who it was from?

id go 2 the end of the world 4 u

My reply?

Would u stay there?

I was not answered. For a couple weeks, I was left alone. I figured he'd finally given up. Then he shows up at a nightclub whose bar I was currently drinking at. Approaching me, I almost laughed. He had a mustache, and looked so much like a blond Mexican that I could have died then and there trying not to laugh.
"Nice legs. When do they open?"
"When you're not around." I snarled visciously. This was getting old. Frowning, he opened his arms wide.
"Why the fuck do you hate me so much?!" He shouted. Half the club turned to look. I quirked an eyebrow.
"Dude. I ditched you for a reason. So go jack off to your mother and leave me the fuck alone." I promptly got a refilled martini and then splashed it on his shirt. The club burst out laughing, minus a few amused men in the corner, although they did smirk in a very cocky way. I ignored them, and stamped out of the bar after the man I had been hoping would leave me alone gave me an incredulous look. I left a tip for the bartender, who was chuckling. He probably saw this kind of thing daily.
With a toss of my mocha-brown ringlets that framed my pale face, I stepped onto the dance floor. And to add salt to the wound, I danced with every guy on it. I ground against their hips, ran my fingers down their chests and faces and necks, and I watched as my furious ex-boyfriend marched out of the club, the ideal figure of shame. Blowing him a mocking kiss, I winked at a nearby guy and switched to dancing with him. When I looked next, he had given me a miserable glance and left. I almost pitied him, but when my favorite song -- Hot N Cold by Katy Perry -- came on, I forgot about him comepletely.
Feeling smug and tired, I went to my expensive little sports car. I had won this battle, as dirty as I had played, and I felt pretty damn good about myself. I drove home with an air of triumph. Several years later, married and with children and a much softer heart then the day I disappointed the man, I actually sympathize with him sometimes. But years later, he left my memory. I never knew that he'd hung himself in his closet because I'd hurt him so badly. Oh well. My self-centered personality cared only that now, I was happy and content with my life.

Told you I was a sadistic, selfish bitch.

[/size]