You are a cunt.

(Sometimes there are a lot of things I would like to say but can't. Either way because a certain person isn't part of my life anymore or there never is the right situation. In my head I'm telling a lot of people a lot of things over and over again (and they already say I'm a talking kind of girl), just because I don't know what else to do. Words are mine. I can words. I can defend myself, argue, discuss, insult, rage around, share and imagine, visualise, make jokes, be gentle, be cruel, with words. And sometimes there are conversations I never had, never will have, but which I need, to feel better, to feel like.. I actually could do something about people who rile me up. This is it. That's all I own. The letters in my head are my valve. (My therapist would be proud, eh.).)

And you are a cunt. A cowardly and a childish (no compliment) little cunt.
It shouldn’t enrage me but it does. And since I don’t care what I should feel or should act like, I just really have the urgent need to high-five your face with a solid brick wall. People like you are the reason I am here, but you won’t be the reason I leave again. It may disturb your life but get used to breathing the same air as me for a long, long while. I’m patient. I can take a lot, I’ve proven so. Unlike you, I did a lot to become a better person. This is a slight reminder to look up your age the next time you want to demonstrate that you don’t like me – hint: it’s not twelve. At least do it with class, because I don’t deal with children.

tl;dr: I am not taking any of your shit and I will find my ways to let you run dry.