this tower of mine

You’ve got the wrong bitxh with this shxt, I think to myself as I calmly fold a blanket and place it nicely on top on my flattest pillow. I know this will be the last time I do anything angrily nicely for you. I don’t even know if you ever even saw the blanket and pillow. You hadn’t seemed to notice when I left you to talk to whomever needed your absolute attention right that second, as I sat, waiting for you to “enjoy your night with me without drama”. Yeah, I don’t cause drama, but it sure seems to like me. I’ve just learned not to engage. And tonight is no different.

The audacity you had to drive up and down stalking the Drama you claimed not to want anything to do with. Speakly harshly to me when I dare to want to turn up the music or not, and reaching out like you’re about to slap my hand away. I’ll take my hand away, and bet, I knew then that I’d never reach for that stereo again.

Once I knew what was happening, I helped you. I engaged all your stupid talk about the Not Drama and how Finished you were. And when we went around the Not Drama’s corner, I hung my leg out the window, waving like a dumb Drama wanting idiot, because why not? It wasn’t my Mess, and here you were, involving me in it without a care in the world. Without thinking about how it might make me feel.

Cause I have them, you know. Feelings. They exist in me. Even though I don’t engage with them the same as it seems like everyone else does, I still have them. And feelings rarely matter in matters of the heart. To me, what matters most is respect.

And you have none. Not for yourself, not for your Not Drama, and definitely not for me. So I’ll wave my arms, and yell about it, and engage in whatever it is you want for this moment. Because I know I won’t ever deal with it again.

And you knew too, when you stopped getting responses from me, showing up at my door, regret all over your face as your Not Drama disappeared again, and I was nice to you.

Of course we’re still friends, you’re still welcome to come shower here any time, I won’t be coming down anymore, but you’re still welcome to come up anytime you want.

I say, as I quietly fold myself back up into my Tower of Self-Respect. Licking my wounds, waiting for the healing to come back again.