Happy Birthday, selfish, hate machine. I don't know what I did to make you detest me so much. If caring about someone is means for abandonment, then Gandhi should be shot into fucking space. Mother Teresa should be hanged.
No, but really- fuck you for telling me I'm a fucking obsessive bitch and treating me condescendingly, when all I ever did was care about your feelings. I still do, somewhat... which is the saddest part of all. I don't know what made you so spiteful towards me, but I'm not going to hang my head and act like it's my fault, anymore. I'm not guilty of anything but having love.
Have a fucking wonderful birthday. I hope you realize what you are throwing away.