I HATE WHO FORGETS WHO HER BEST FRIENDS ARE

I hate you Peter. I hate you for forgetting who your real friends are. Even though I feel relieved that I finnaly don't have to put up with you and your whining about your pathetic life anymore, I still hate you. I hate you so much you make me want to grab the nearest object to me and break it. You changed, from my best friend to a stupid, pathetic whiny attention seeking slut who cares about nobody but yourself. EVen your precious boyfriend has dumped you. Now you've fallen flat on your stupid ass. I hope you are miserable. I hope you cry yourself to sleep every night. You probably already did that - now you've just got nobody to complain to or to blame (because everything that went wrong with your life was somehow 'my fault' because 'I' was being a prick apparently). Oh poor little rich girl, who has everything handed to her by her parents, yet she doesn't appreciate fuck all. You think you have so many problems - yet when was the last time you asked me how I was doing. I have news for you - WE ALL GOT PROBLEMS, SO SUCK IT, BITCH. You ordered me around, like I was your little worker bee, and you were Queen. 'Go get this, go get that'. Fuck that. Get it yourself. So you and your little chav friends can go and do whatever you do - be sluts, wear designer knock-offs (or real ones for you, since your dad gives whatever to his 'little princess'), cheat on your on/off boyfriend, who in the time that it's taken me to write this you have got back together with again. You controlling bitch. You can't stand to see anyone else in control. You cheat on your boyfriend (with that other Peter), slag me off behind my back to those other little Peter sluts, and generally control people weaker than you. Maybe its my fault for putting up with you FOR SO DAMN LONG. There are so many things I want to say to you, slut, but I'll leave you with one - Karma is a bitch :) Your ex bestfriend.