Thirteen Reasons Why

It's not me, it's you. And here's why I've been able to come to terms with the fact that we are nothing, not friends or even acquaintances.

1. You're fearful. So am I, but I am traditional. You make the move. No exceptions.

2. You're ignorant. Oh, man. This could count for about five reasons. But you are. And it sickens me.

3. You're a brain-washed Catholic, and it makes you judgmental and very close-minded.

4. You're one of those homophobes who think God never planned them and they're an abomination. Nice theory.

5. You're so Republican that I get nauseous. But here's the funny thing: in a political debate, you could never hold your own. You only know what your father or friends have spewed back at you.

6. You're racist. To almost all cultures, but I've seen and heard what you and your family say about mine and, although people have made me self-conscious to admit being 25% Mexican, it's made me who I am. And helped get me a scholarship. So there.

7. You're misogynistic. Oh, how your sexism infuriates me. The "make me a sandwich" thing was about funny for five seconds for a group of thirteen year old boys. Grow up. I may be a Mexican woman, but in terms of knowledge, I could floor you. And I'm already far more successful than you, as a caucasian boy, will ever be. So what does that say, my friend?

8. Reasons 3-7 make you seem incredibly stupid in my eyes. And while in 8th grade your stupidity was merely in terms of schoolwork and I found it slightly endearing, I now find that you have used your stupidity to be a follower. That just doesn't fly.

9. Reasons 3-7 also make you far more immature than a boy your age should be. My other male friends laugh at stories of you, at your ignorance, and it makes me realize how far behind you are.

10. You're lazy. I don't know of a single situation where laziness is attractive.

11. You're becoming your family. I used to defend you or agree with my mom when she would say you were the one person in that fucked up family who had their head on straight. Now, I throw in the counter-argument. She's wrong. I was wrong. You are what you are. You are your father's son. 

12. When I see posts or messages that you've put out on the Internet, I actually have been disgusted and embarrassed. I imagine if we were still dating and I saw those things. I'd turn away. And maybe that's why I left you three (four?) times. Because I saw in you what I couldn't see when you left me. That you're everything I hate in our generation. That we couldn't ever work because you epitomize what irritates me! You're like the human version of the Fox News Network. I can't love that.

13. And lastly, this one actually makes me sad. When I wrote out numbers 1-13, I thought, "There's no way I can think of thirteen reasons. I used to love you. I used to dream of you every night, think of you every single day, want you, need you. There's no way I could think of thirteen things I hate. Five max." But I could. I didn't even have to take time to think about each one. In fact, the reasons sprang to my mind so fast I had to quickly jot them down so I wouldn't leave one out. I'm just upset that you turned into them. You were so good, so undeniably good. You had been beaten down and had a little coy smile and spiked out hair and were cute, but you had no idea. You were the insecure one. You thought it was crazy that I could ever like you. You were meek and still afraid of what the future holds and you were you. Now, you're a stranger and I don't like you. You're not even a stranger I would like to know. You're someone I walk past on the street, obnoxiously screaming with your friends, high on weed and drunk off of excessive amounts of alcohol, and I just think douchebag. I've learned to not feel good about your old promises. You never fulfill them. I hope someday you can come back. Not for me. But maybe for some nice girl who can turn you around. Who knows, maybe she'll be Catholic? And maybe you won't be embarrassed to bring her near your family. And maybe you won't duck and hide every time she comes around. And maybe you won't avoid her eye. And maybe you won't run away from her if you see her around town. And maybe you won't become your father and will love her and treat her right. But that's not where you're headed right now. And I hate it. I hate who you've become.