you make me want to tear my hair out.
no, this isnt a teenage phase
this is me being truthful.
when we argue, you automatically turn to your brother to help you out because you cant take me on yourself.
you are weak and helpless.
i am done trying to make you happy.
i am finished trying to make your life easier.
you are selfish.
you dont want anything to do with anyone who cant help you in some way or another.
i hope the infection you have is deadly.
i dont want to talk about my eating habits with you,
or the drugs i may or may not be on.
i dont want to hug you, or drive your crappy car.
i dont even like sitting next to you.
i cant wait until you die.
you talk too much.