We are having a conversation. It’s casual. It’s mutual. We discuss the past weekend and that my weekend kinda sucked and then I mention that my side/back is so much better than it was 3 years ago and….
And then you cut me off. Your stomach was awful you say and then you were in the hospital and did you mention that the throwing up it was soo bad and that you were gonna die and…and… I…well…
What the hell just happened?
We were having a good conversation like many times before but it was no longer a back and forth tit for tat. It became a you conversation. And some more of you. And then you you you YOU YOU YOOOOOOOOU!!
You kinda suck.
I’m here, right in front of you, giving you my undivided focus. Eyes locked and ears listening. You got me. I’m present in this discussion.
Attention is being paid.
But now, you’ve lost me. I’ve mentally left this conversation over the narcissistic, dramatic dribble that you are vomiting from your pie-hole. I thought of your hole that eats pie just now because you mentioned that when you eat pie, it bothers your stomach. However, that’s all I caught during your insane rambles.
Come to think of it this seems to be a pattern with you. As I recall we had a conversation just a few weeks ago and I mentioned the terrible service I had at certain department store but the service that you received was WAY worse than the one that I had like 1 million times worse like it’s almost like they shot you with arrows as you walked in the door because for some reason your receipt was missing two numerals and you couldn’t seem to get the refund of two hundred dollars that you spent there just two days ago. Really.
Actually, that’s probably not verbatim. It might’ve been three numerals.
Maybe you were an only child. Maybe the opposite is true and you were one of 19 kids like on a crappy TLC reality show. No one listened to you. You had to speak up, speak out, speak in a flood of one-uppers that made more people roll their eyes at you then hang on your every word. I was raised as an only child, practically. I had my parents attention, for the most part. When I was younger, I created stories and embellished to get more of their attention. After a while, I realized that I could just talk and be me. There was no need to try and make the conversation more exciting or full of unnecessary emotional turmoil. You create that drama. and guess what, no one wants to hear it.
And now, here I am, wanting to talk to you, with you, but not the “you” you are right now. I’m not interested in you trying to manipulate the conversation. I want to engage. You listen to me and then, in return, I’ll listen to you. That’s what being a friend is about. Just.talk.to.me. I don’t need to be impressed by you. I already chose you as a friend and it wasn’t because of what happened to you in comparison to what has happened to me. I’m your friend despite of that.
Dear One-Upper, please stop it so we can talk and listen like friends do. Together.
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