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Taylor Swift Tells My Life Story

13 Feb

“You with your words like knives, and swords and weapons that you use against me–you have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like a nothing.” That was Mary’s specialty–not just towards me after she turned against me, but to all her perceived enemies.  I felt like every positive aspect of my personality was quiescent.  Even though I felt my work ethic and motivation were the same, suddenly my talent and success was concealed.  Mary was a major factor in this attitude and impending depression and sloppiness I was about to undergo.

“You. . .  calling me out when I’m wounded, you picking on the weaker man.  You can take me down with just one single blow.” I was at my lowest point, just looking for someone to be there for me, when Mary could not conceal her antipathy for me anymore.  I was in a position of helplessness, and depended on Mary for housing, a job, a professional recommendation, and little did I know, basic amenities, friends, and freedom.  It was certainly no challenge to take me down.  She took full advantage of this dominance over my life and perverted it to make me look bad and live miserably.  Her outright hatred of me was not dormant at work or at social events either.  Mary made no bones about the fact she was trying to ruin me (before I could ruin her).

“You. . .  and your humiliation, you have pointed out my flaws again, as if I don’t already see them. . .  Trying to block you out, cause I never impress you, I just wanna feel ok again” All I wanted, the entire time I lived at the Cabin-Mansion was to find some peace and comfort.  Someone I could trust, who could tell me everything would work out.  I wanted a support system.  When things did not work out that way, and were in fact, the complete opposite it just crushed me.  Mary embarrassed me time and time again.  It made me feel bad when she had parties in the yard where people could see me, and I was not invited.  I felt horrible when the reticence bled over into the workplace and my coworkers would ask why Mary oscillated between ignoring me and yelling at me.   I didn’t like it when Mary offered everyone at the birthday party a shot, then yanked it back out of my hand in front of all the guests.  It sent me into a great depression that nearly immobilized me, and for a full year after I felt I could not get over that pain.  The hurt is still latent, and I still want to forget the whole thing so I can feel better.

“The cycle ends right now. . .  cause you can’t lead me down that road.” I had to decide on my own that I had awesome potential and it did not matter if anyone else saw it.  Maybe my ambition was inert when I was depressed, drinking-heavily, and in the midst of the Cabin-Mansion, but I was still the same, good person the whole time.  I decided that my behavior had been remarkably estimable while I lived at the Cabin-Mansion despite the gloomy circumstances.  It was Mary that acted less than admirable, with her cheating, and beating, and warring.  SHE is the one who should have really been suffering, not me.  The hairdresser was far from respectable, Kim and her drinking were not honorable, and my parents’ retraction of support and common sense were hardly commendable.  The veterinary school admissions dean was not creditable either with his bad advice, and trading information about me with Mary.  It’s a wonder I didn’t act more terrible looking at the unworthy people surrounding me!  I wanted to move on with my life, so I extricated myself from each of these terrible situations and influences and concentrated on living a venerable life.

“Some day I’ll be big enough. . .  and all you’ll ever be in mean.” One day, when I am a meritorious veterinarian and lauded writer, I’ll look back and laugh.  Each one of these people, especially Mary are not happy, and they are not going anywhere.  They will never truly be estimable. They may vacillate between the moral high ground and depths of unethical mores, but it doesn’t make them better than me.  Mary will always be a homophobic, over-worked big fish in a small pond.  “. . .  But nobody’s listening, washed up and ranting. . .  and all you are is mean, and a liar, and pathetic and alone in life, and mean, and mean, and mean.”

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