blondie073's Journal

This girl I don't know, Brett, who's a friend of Emma's, keeps messaging me on Facebook. She keeps telling me how much she hates me and thinks I'm a bitch, but then she says she was drunk when she sent the message and she guesses she apologizes. Right. Like I believe that. She also told me I'm emo for going to the school I go to. If she'd met me, she'd know that if I had to be labelled, it would be prep. I wear short shorts, and pink, and jewellery, and lipgloss. I like the smell of Hollister perfume. That does not scream emo to me.

It really bothers me when people judge before they get to know someone. I hate how they feel they have a right to tell me what I am when we've never spoken face-to-face. I don't know. Some days I get really worked up over things.

I wish so bad right now I'd never met Emma. And I have a knawing feeling in my soul that she's going to try to be my friend again. Joy. After the library thing, where she made me come down about the whole boyfriend thing, after I'd left, she came running after me and asked if I knew where the mailbox was. Which was outside the postoffice. Which she knew where it was. So I think she wants to be friends but doesn't want to be clingy, and doesn't want to make the first move, and doesn't know how to put the past behind us.

I don't want to be friends with her. Sometimes I do, because we had some fun times, but most of the time I remember how bitchy she was to me and I don't want her in my life. I know she's going to come back, and I'm probably going to get hurt again. Fuck this is complicated.

I gotta go, because our dinner guests are here. I'll deal with this issue at a later time.