Dear Beezus

Chapter 1: The Playlist

This book is dedicated to me. Yes, Me.

This book is full of shits. Don't say you haven't been warned.

You don't believe me? You still want to read this? Okay then.

I wanted to kick this off with some fairytale-like vibes, but that's bullshit. No fairytales here, even if I'm jamming to 'Lover' by Blondie. Blondie's so head over heels. I mean, seriously, who wouldn't fall for Joe?
Hold up, after 'Lover,' Blondie's over that guy. But yeah, whatever.

Anyway, can't whip up a magical intro for this novel 'cause my head's just not vibing with any sparkling, shining, shimmering, splendid thoughts. All I've got here is... shit.

Chapter 1: The Playlist

Hi Beezus,

It's me again. I know it's been a while. You've been waiting for this, haven't you?

Yeah. Life sucks. Life happened. We're back in this phase again. We knew we'd end up here, but yeah, it is what it is. I know you know. So say it... say it. I know you've been dying to say, 'I told you so!' But you enjoyed the ride too, right? For a while, we were happy. No regrets about that.

But after uncovering the lies, we now wonder if anything else is a lie. Is there any truth in those moments? Now we're thinking, none of those were real. They're all lies... but deep down, you still want to believe they're true, that they're real. You're such a dickhead.

So yeah, we got cheated on AGAIN. A girl messaged me. She told me she's been seeing my boyfriend, that they've already had sex. She knew I existed. Well, what do I expect? Some low-value women will find a way to validate their feelings, thinking they're high-value even if it's with someone else's boyfriend. How cheap. And she got mad when I told her, ' You were fully aware of my existence, yet you willingly signed up to be a sidechick. What a pathetic choice.' She straight-up told me not to call her a sidechick 'cause she thinks she's a victim. Seriously? You hearing yourself, girl? Get some self-respect, lady. You can't buy that stuff online, babe, and that's probably why you're running low on it. Girl, seriously, what's your deal? You want me to bow down and say, 'Thanks for snatching that dude. You're a real angel.' or 'Girl, big thanks for rescuing me from him. I owe you one.'? Come on, girl, shut up. You're not the main character; I am!

Then she blocked me. I don't know what's going on in your head, girl. But I'm pretty sure you ain't on my level. Yes, I'm aware that I'm not pretty, but I know the rule: "Thou shall not steal." Girl, just have him. I don't want him. You two should live a fairytale life. Come on, you both ruined me, and you won't end up together? That's very offensive. Make it work.

But they didn't because the boy he stole—yes, I'm going to use the term 'boy' because he ain't a man. He is a boy. No explanation needed. Well, she stole the boy, but, you know, the boy ran back to me, begged me to stay. Like, boy, are you nuts? You chose a rotten fruit over a strawberry and sunshine. He's so sweet for telling me it was just a mistake, he didn't mean to cheat. Well, that's why I'm calling you 'boy.' You don't know shits.

Mistake? You chose to cheat. You were fully aware that that fcking thing would hurt. You were having your 'little patootie' sucked while I'm crying alone, thinking you're cheating. And guess what? I'm right again. You cheated. Don't justify your actions by saying it was just a mistake and you didn't mean it. You meant it. You meant every moan while she was doing her thing. Boy, you know I can do better than that. I can give you heaven, but now I'm giving you hell. Just like what Taylor said, "Don't blame me for what you made me do."

But you know me, Beezus. You know I'm crazy. I forgave him. I straight up told him, 'Yeah, that hurt. But you're just a boy. What do you know? You don't know what you're doing.' I wanted to throw in a biblical word, but I don't want to bring any holy vibe into this messed-up situation. Yeah, Beezus, call me an idiot. I forgave him. I'm pissed. On a scale from 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest, I'm angry at the millionth level. 'Cause I didn't deserve any of that. I loved for real. I was so real, then what did I get? Played several times. Cheated on. Treated like a doormat. Should I blame myself? Hell yes! I blame myself for letting someone mess me up, for letting someone treat me like a doormat, for giving someone my all and leaving nothing for myself. What the heck, Beezus? I'm beat. I'm drained. No energy, no will to live another day. The sunshine ain't shining. The sunset looks sad. Love songs hurt. 'Lover' used to be on repeat, but now I don't wanna hear it. Not a single beat of it. It sounds sad. I see no love anymore. I hear no love. Suddenly, the world just stops. It stopped again.