I am a bitch. A colossal bitch. I’m flighty, fickle, manipulative. You need to understand this, to get this, because no one else does. It’s so important that you realise this fact because I don’t want to hurt you, oh my precious reader. You have to know this, or run. Run far away.
I hope you do know, and that you know the rest of me as well and have decided the good outweighs the bad. I hope it does. I’m not sure if that’s true. I want you to not care either way.
You have to know, though, for I couldn’t stand hurting you and you, wounded forever, looking at me with surprise in your eyes. You must expect this. I am a bitch. There’s no use trying to excuse it, or pretend otherwise. There is no justification and trying to hide it only makes its appearance worse. I am a bitch.
Listen well reader, repeat it. You cannot love me in ignorance, naivety has no place here.
I am a bitch. I will hurt you. I wont be sorry.
I hope none of these things are true. I wish they weren’t.
Consider yourself forewarned.