I am like your moth in a streetlight's riptide
At both 40-hour jobs all week
Breaking my back just to make things matter
But not in the way you'd like
You always said,
"Get outta here."
In your fanfare
Of incompatibility
Specifically once,
I came home where the expectations should've been low
You were strange, so strange
Criticizing everything i did
Giving me your opinion on every decision
And always complaining about everyone
After four and a half months of working two full time jobs
And putting up with the abrasiveness you're blind to
When I stopped wanting to talk to you, you hobbled up to me and said,
"Oh. Hi. I forgot you even live here."
Yeah, because I work 80 ******* hours a week,
And I can't buy Ramen noodles without you whispering to a housemate:
"Weird. I don't understand why you wouldn't just season them yourself, but whatever you like to do."
At least it wasn't in that boomy, loud-woman's voice.
I can't talk about requesting off four days in June (it's February)
Without you saying, "so you're taking off four days from your jobs to get paid to work at a convention? hmm. all I'm saying is you gotta think about balancing fun with work. I can't imagine you've accrued vacation time yet."
And yes when I moved out you wanted money for the glass top stove which was not damaged which you welcomed four people to use as much as they wanted which I would not use much and went to my parent's house to make food because you just made me uncomfortable when I used your kitchen.
But I couldn't complain because technically, you were nice.
And never made me talk to you
And you wanted money for the drier which had some ink inside the drum which has since dried and the dryer functions perfectly.
And you wanted money for the damages you said were most likely in the room.
It's time to walk away from you. No, you were strange.
No, I don't trust a stranger.