It is not the jealousy that fickled me, its the "having to believe" that seems so impeccably impossible to me. Judging form a childish self, I'd totally mock him or begin a twitter-war of how humiliated I felt when he didn't acknowledge my presence. Then, came a courteous mind version of me in the frame, saying "no acting in that manner will just denote the failure of you of having to maintain your composure of a wise lady. And just take it this way, he is downgrading rather than upgrading."
After much thinking and keeping my self tucked in, there's just one thing I need to say; "fuck you, bitch."
Yes you may be 20 steps a head of me, i'll make you shit in your pants, spill your soda and burp like a old horse that's too tired to stand when I climb atop and be in a far better place than I am now.
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