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Your Rules Don't Apply To Me

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-Your Rules Don’t Apply to Me-
Prologue
Words Can Bring Me Down

I’ll stick up for myself…even when everyone else backs down. I wish you wouldn’t cry you’re ugly when you cry, most boys are…but then again, girls are ugly when their faces crumble and turn red, their mascara runs, they look like Alice Cooper, and snot makes their face sticky. It’s ugly, and not in a negative way, I mean it as in...the way it feels to see someone crying. It doesn’t feel so good, even if it’s not because of you.

You know what else is ugly? Lying, bragging, impatience, harsh words, and stupidity…you know there is no cure for stupidity. Out of those words you’re a liar, you’re impatient, and you’re stupid. The only thing beautiful about you was your sense of humor and but even that wasn’t striking and breath-taking.

I think you’re an over-achiever…and that does not make you smart, it makes you look ridiculous when you try too hard. Let me let you in on a little secret. It doesn’t impress anyone, especially not me…because I know how hard you try to impress me.

Roses die, the red ones I throw away fastest, but I keep black roses on the table in my room. Your words are trash, but you know what? If you stopped and thought about what you were doing, how hard you were trying, how all you were doing was failing, I think you’d stop and understand all you had to do to impress me was to not be ashamed of me, to show me off, and to hold my hand, and kiss me in the halls.

So instead, I stood up for myself when you backed down, and I let words hurt me when you let them bounce off of you. Despite all of that you still wouldn’t hold my hand, unless we were alone. I wasn’t ashamed…I was embarrassed…when I stopped trying to be your boyfriend, I walked away, and you didn’t come after me, you let me go, let me cry…and I was ugly.

It should be no question as to why I broke up with you. Were we even together in the first place? I think secretly you used me to get closer to another boy, and that kills me on the inside. I must be wrong somehow. Wrong, ugly, stupid, liar, impatient, all those words describe you…take them into consideration.

You know when they say “Words can’t bring me down” it’s a lie. “Think before you speak” is a good idea to go by, because without you…I realized how many big bad bullies there are that hate me. Hate me for being gay, for being weaker, and vulnerable, for taking everything to heart.

I don’t like when people see me ugly…so I keep it all in, I bottle up my emotions until I get home. In the shower I crack, I cry, and nobody is around to ask why. I pick myself up, dry myself off, and I ignore my Alice Cooper eyes, and my trembling lip. I am me and you are you and together we weren’t strong enough to keep it going.

You’re real ugly when you cry, when you yell, when you beg, when you cheat. “The first cut is the deepest” and you tore me apart, left me feeling lonely and useless, and completely broken open for everyone to see and touch.

I hate you, how you make me feel, how you made me ugly, so I’m going to prove a point. To you and all the other bullies out there, teasing a kid for their looks, weight, sexuality, and anything else. I’m going to show you how you made me feel, I’m going to show you how ugly you are, how black your insides are, I’m going to make you hurt. And I’m going to do it in ten days.

Thank you for opening my eyes to the stupid, ugly world around me. I’m going to show you words can bring people down…I’m going to show you that you hurt me and it can make me hurt myself.

And I hope it rots your guts from the inside out.

-Love always- Tommy Joe

Chapter Text

Your Rules Don’t Apply to Me
Day one.
Hells Hot.

 

In the third grade I started watching people at school and at home and putting them into categories. When I was five I already knew six cuss words, so when the elementary kids learned their first in fourth grade I knew they watched cartoons rather than movies.

This was also when ‘sexy’ along with ’sex’ were considered bad and inappropriate to say, which to me was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard. However, fifth grade I found out the meaning to that three letter ‘f’ word. Not the big one with four letters and involved that ugly word sex.

I’m talking about the one used to describe gays and their “disgusting” patterns. At first this didn’t weigh on my mind much. Not until eighth grade when I realized I was gay. I was that three letter ‘f’ word, people barked so harshly.

In the eyes of my classmates, who seemed to know before I did, I was wrong, ugly, dirty, stupid, and I was going to hell. And because at the time I was weak and I didn’t fight, I took what they said and I believed them.

And that year after the big bad bullies made me cry, made me ugly, more than once…I cut…along my wrist, along my thighs, and I didn’t care what other people thought. They told me I was going to hell, I told them hells not hot. They called me that nasty word, I told them it stood for “fierce and gorgeous.” And that’s what I was. And slowly by myself, I overcame myself, my problem, and the bullies.

But now because of you, because you were ashamed and we both cried, I cut. And it reminded me of how wrong and stupid I was, and how you can never fix stupid, and wrong is almost impossible to fix. Thank you for making me do this…you opened my eyes to every bad thing around me and for every bad thing I have seen, I have cut.

And baby there are scars, yes there are so many scars, but I know you don’t care. I like the way the blood looks when it’s seeping from the wounds in my legs and running down my wrists. How the water from the shower washes it away, and I’m left with an open gash, and a guilty feeling.

Does it make you hurt to know that you did this to me, that you are the cause and the source of my pain? You’re real ugly when you cry, but I think you’d be happy to know that when I cut, I smile and that smile is for you and only you. I’m showing rather than telling you how much I loved you, but you didn’t love me, and that’s ok.

Because hells hot, I’m fierce and gorgeous, and every drag of the razor blade across my pale skin is screaming with love, hate, and ugly. I want the picture to be burned into your mind, of all my love in that bleeding cut across my wrist.

This time there will be no turning back, this time I know I’m not good enough, and this time I will not be saved. It’s all for you, baby, all of it. So sit back, and enjoy the show, watch me slowly fall apart for you, watch me drown under your command, and baby watch me…with a smile one that pretty face of yours.

Are you counting the days? Barely containing yourself for what could happen next? Have you brought that other boy to the show? I’d like to meet him if you’d pry your hands off of him for just one minute. You must be so proud of him, he must never be ugly, must never cry. And I wonder if he’s seen you ugly yet…wonder if you’ve let him see you ugly, because actually you’re ugly quite often.

He just means so much to you, I’ve seen it in your eyes. You smile at everything he says, every time he laughs, and whenever he makes those stupid faces at you. You hold his hand in the halls and kiss him at the lockers, and you buy him stupid meaningless gifts…ones that won’t die.

Did I make you realize what you were doing wrong, or did you honestly love him more? He looks like one of those boys that would insist on stupid gifts, and kisses in between classes. I hate him, and I hate you for not loving me the way you obviously love him.

So I cut, and it’s all for you, baby. One day down, nine to go. It’s all for you darling, all the blood, every cut, and all the scars. So watch, focus, learn, hurt, and smile. No one wants to see you ugly.

And before I let you go…answer me this.

If he means so much to you…why didn’t I mean that much to you?

-Love Always-
Tommy Joe

Chapter Text

I stopped eating…I think you always liked small boys with beautiful features. Somehow I know that even though I am small I’m not small enough. So I stopped eating today…I hope this makes you happy.

Maybe there is just no way to please you…maybe you won’t be happy until I’m dead. Is that what it’s going to take? Dying? Suicide? I now look forward to seeing you and your new boy in the halls, kissing with no shame. When we make eye contact and you shake your head and look back at the new boy, I wonder if that means you’re reading my letters and you are ashamed of me for being so weak.

I’m wrong and ugly and you must see that when we accidentally look at each other…I must think too loud for you. You must see everything that crosses my mind. What do you think about my thoughts? Do they upset you, are you ashamed, or are you happy that I’m finally doing it by myself?

My parents haven’t asked why yet, and neither have you. I don’t expect you to…you have your new boy to worry about. Not me, I don’t expect you to answer to my letters, in fact I’d rather you didn’t. I want to talk to you, but I don’t want you to answer back, baby. I want to finally get a few words in. I want a one-way conversation. I’ll talk and you don’t answer. Don’t even insert comments. Thank you. Just listen, just watch, and let me talk.

How much will I have to do? Or do you even care, because if you do answer any of these I’m only going to throw them away. I guess you’ve figured the only way to fix all of this is by actually coming to me and not being ashamed about it. I don’t want to force you though…I don’t want you to feel like you have to talk to me. I still have eight days I’m going to finish whether you like it or not.

Every morning I don’t eat, every night at dinner when I push food around rather than eating it my parents ask if I’m ok, and I lie about it. I tell them I’m fine, but I pull the sleeves down on my shirt so they won’t see the scars cross my wrist.

Sometimes they ask about you and I tell them I wasn’t good enough…that you never loved me and Ron doesn’t say anything, but Dia tries even though she doesn’t know how to sympathize with her gay son. Coming out of the closet was probably one of the hardest and stupidest things I’ve ever done, because I know my parents won’t ever know how to help me, or understand me.

So I stopped eating and started cutting, and I hide it from Dia and Ron because I’m scared to tell them and find out what they say. Do you get tied hurting people? I’ve seen you with a lot of boys before me and they seem to all go home crying and heartbroken. Am I the only one that’s done something about it? Or is someone going to have to beat you at your own game? I hope one day you go home ugly and find out how it feels to have your heartbroken.

I’ve heard about those couples that fall in love within days , but that’s all crap. I love you is eight letters long, but then again…so is bullshit. And you’re full of shit, telling people you love them and using that stupid sticky-sweet voice you got. I feel so stupid falling for all of it, and I’m sure the other boys do too.

My parents suggest talking to someone, but don’t they know I already am? We’re talking, honey, we’re talking about all the things we missed, like how I cut myself in middle school because my older sister killed herself. And how much I hate when people like, my favorite movies, and what I do in my free time.

We just missed me all together, but I let you talk and I sat back and analyzed everything you said to me. I wrote it all down just in case I needed it to prove a point later. Obviously it was a good idea, like when you said you would never hurt anyone and you would never use anyone. I never loved you, or anything you told me.

Listen baby, this aint living.

So two days down…eight more to go, maybe somewhere between here and the end you’ll grow up and realize what you’re doing.

Love Always- Tommy Joe Ratliff.

Chapter Text

I guess there was a sudden snap decision. I must have glitched somewhere in my head, because suddenly I feel that everything that happened was my fault. But I know that’s not true…you used me, I had nothing to do with any of it.

Yet every time I meet my dark eyes in the mirror, every time I look at the ugly cuts on wrists and open them up again, every time I push food around, and I cry, I know that for some reason, even if it was just the smallest reason, it was my fault, and it’s not going to change any.

My parents tell me I’m taking the break up too hard, but they don’t know the half of it. By the way, today I found your letter in return, tucked under the windshield on my car. It was half done…you stopped mid sentence like you realized this wouldn’t mean anything, or you got choked up and couldn’t finish.

What killed me was the picture of you and your new boy that fluttered out with the letter. And at first I was pissed, I let it get to me, I went home and tossed your letter in the paper shredder and then the photo and sat there for an hour, thinking about what you did.

I let it sit low and simmer in my stomach until it made me sick and then when I couldn’t take it anymore, when I couldn’t just sit there and look at your half finished letter, and shredded face, I cried. And this time…I didn’t hide. I stayed in the floor of my dad’s office, and let myself be ugly.

I don’t remember how long I was there, when I cry I cry for a very long time, but this time my dad found me. I probably looked like the biggest baby, sitting in the floor with a blanket over my head and eyeliner running down my face. Ron didn’t mind though, he sat down beside me and hugged me and didn’t let go.

And my hiccupping turned to cries again with crocodile tears as my mom used to say when I was little. He didn’t say anything for a while, he only held me and let me be ugly, and I swear he even cried for a little while too.

The blankets didn’t hide anything…I didn’t wear long sleeve, didn’t cover up. And he looked at the old scars and at the fresh new cuts, and told me you weren’t worth my pain, that you were a stupid punk that didn’t deserve anyone as good as me.

And then he told me he loved me…

Hearing that stopped me in my tracks, it’s been so long since he last told me that…I guess it made me realize that I’d done the same exact thing to him. I couldn’t remember the last time I told him I loved him. So I told him…and he smiled…and we talked.

And so yeah, there will be days where I cry, and feel sorry for myself, days where I’ll hide under the blankets and blame myself for everything that went wrong, but then again…there will be days when I am strong and I can do it for myself.

Even on my weakest days, I won’t need you, there are so many people out there that will help me get over you…and it starts with my dad. You’re just a stupid punk. Seven more days honey, somehow my dad looked over this point. He must know and trust that I’d never do anything too drastic.

Seven more days you stupid punk, seven more days of proving words do hurt people. Too bad there isn’t medication for stupidity…you’d be on it all the time. Rest in peace, rot in hell.

And he told me he loved me…

Love Always-Tommy Joe.

Chapter Text

I’ve lost ten pounds, cut twelve times, and cried to my father twice. And every time he holds me and tells me you’re stupid and I’m better than you. I don’t deserve all of this pain. He tells me to please stop hurting myself and do something positive and productive.

I told him six more days and I’d quit, I’d suck it up and act like I was about to graduate high-school. I’d focus on school and not love, I’d stop everything harmful and be good. I’d be the son I should have been, I won’t disappoint him or Momma.

He said I wasn’t a disappointment, he told me he loved me, he tells me that daily now, but he’s afraid I’ll be dead or seriously injured in seven days. I’m not going to be stupid…I won’t mean to die if I do…

I found out you were spreading crap when you read these letters. You’d pass them to your friends, who would tell anyone willing to listen. Now when I walk through the halls people give me weird looks and whisper about me, or push me into the lockers.

It doesn’t upset me though…in fact these things fuel me, the more enemies the better. I’m ending the school year burned out and empty. Then next year I’ll have turned myself around, new style, new attitude.

Everyday is pretty much a guessing game for me as much as you, so I haven’t been sleeping well, fearing your reactions to the daily stunt I pull and nearly jumping myself waiting to see what will happen. So in my medicine cabinet I found sleeping pills my doctor prescribed me when I was younger.

Because I had weird sleeping patterns, so they put me into drugged nap time at nights, so that I wouldn’t fall asleep in school. I had several left and took one so I could sleep and washed it down with some of the beer my dad left laying out.

If Ron saw me doing that right there, the gig would have been up then and there, and I wouldn’t get to finish proving my point to you. But he was outside and I stayed safe and had the best sleep I’d had in years.

If you haven’t already noticed I’m a little bit of an insomniac, so Dia and Ron didn’t ask when they saw me taking the medication. However they never caught me mixing it with subtle amounts of alcohol, whether it be from Ron’s beer at night, or Dia’s midnight glass of wine.

I’m not a bad example, I swear, I just have to show you how unfair it is that you break people’s hearts like it’s a day job from nine to five. I would never encourage kids to shoot for my level of stupidity as much as yours.

So just watch, not much more than six days left, I want you to gain a few things from this experience. One-You aren’t as great as you think you are. Two-Breaking hearts shouldn’t be a goal to have. Three-there is no cure for stupidity. Four-Your personality is really shallow, and nobody likes that.

Keep these things in mind and maybe you can make a complete turn-around. No one’s expecting much though, especially not me. I know you aren’t capable of a lot of things.

The clocks ticking down, are you ready? Waiting in anticipation? Bouncing on the edge of your seat? Not sleeping well? Or is that shallow heart of yours sleeping peacefully through the night with no second thoughts.

Hey baby, just remember this next time you roll over at night because you have to pee…

Eighty percent of the time when you wake up at two to three in the morning, someone is staring at you.

Scared yet?

Love Always –Tommy Joe.

Chapter Text

I’ve lost ten pounds, cut twelve times, and cried to my father twice. And every time he holds me and tells me you’re stupid and I’m better than you. I don’t deserve all of this pain. He tells me to please stop hurting myself and do something positive and productive.

I told him six more days and I’d quit, I’d suck it up and act like I was about to graduate high-school. I’d focus on school and not love, I’d stop everything harmful and be good. I’d be the son I should have been, I won’t disappoint him or Momma.

He said I wasn’t a disappointment, he told me he loved me, he tells me that daily now, but he’s afraid I’ll be dead or seriously injured in seven days. I’m not going to be stupid…I won’t mean to die if I do…

I found out you were spreading crap when you read these letters. You’d pass them to your friends, who would tell anyone willing to listen. Now when I walk through the halls people give me weird looks and whisper about me, or push me into the lockers.

It doesn’t upset me though…in fact these things fuel me, the more enemies the better. I’m ending the school year burned out and empty. Then next year I’ll have turned myself around, new style, new attitude.

Everyday is pretty much a guessing game for me as much as you, so I haven’t been sleeping well, fearing your reactions to the daily stunt I pull and nearly jumping myself waiting to see what will happen. So in my medicine cabinet I found sleeping pills my doctor prescribed me when I was younger.

Because I had weird sleeping patterns, so they put me into drugged nap time at nights, so that I wouldn’t fall asleep in school. I had several left and took one so I could sleep and washed it down with some of the beer my dad left laying out.

If Ron saw me doing that right there, the gig would have been up then and there, and I wouldn’t get to finish proving my point to you. But he was outside and I stayed safe and had the best sleep I’d had in years.

If you haven’t already noticed I’m a little bit of an insomniac, so Dia and Ron didn’t ask when they saw me taking the medication. However they never caught me mixing it with subtle amounts of alcohol, whether it be from Ron’s beer at night, or Dia’s midnight glass of wine.

I’m not a bad example, I swear, I just have to show you how unfair it is that you break people’s hearts like it’s a day job from nine to five. I would never encourage kids to shoot for my level of stupidity as much as yours.

So just watch, not much more than six days left, I want you to gain a few things from this experience. One-You aren’t as great as you think you are. Two-Breaking hearts shouldn’t be a goal to have. Three-there is no cure for stupidity. Four-Your personality is really shallow, and nobody likes that.

Keep these things in mind and maybe you can make a complete turn-around. No one’s expecting much though, especially not me. I know you aren’t capable of a lot of things.

The clocks ticking down, are you ready? Waiting in anticipation? Bouncing on the edge of your seat? Not sleeping well? Or is that shallow heart of yours sleeping peacefully through the night with no second thoughts.

Hey baby, just remember this next time you roll over at night because you have to pee…

Eighty percent of the time when you wake up at two to three in the morning, someone is staring at you.

Scared yet?

Love Always –Tommy Joe.

Chapter Text

For a while I’ve been listening to not only your shit but other people’s shit. I’ve been listening to their problems like a good friend, I’ve smiled at rude comments, and I haven’t said a damn word.

But now…I’ve heard too much. I’ve kept my mouth shut for long enough and I can feel anger sitting low in my stomach. Every time my parents ask me to do something I fix my yes ma’am with a dead voice and a disgusting glare.

Dia talks to Ron about my behavior, I know she does. I could be directly across from them at the kitchen table or in my room, but she still talks. I know because Ron often corrects my behavior not long after.

He tells me I’m dragging this break up out too long and I wonder where he went…what changed? Earlier he was holding me and telling me it was alright, I could prove my point as long as I didn’t kill myself.

I want my daddy back!

Do you see what you’ve done to me? I hide now. I sit in the dark and either cry or think about how much I hate you for being you. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone as much as I truly hate you.

Ron says one day I’m going to snap and something really bad is going to happen to me and the people around me. He thinks I need therapy.

Thanks a lot…

I feel so tense now…every day I feel as if my insides are turning black and I hate everyone because of you. I used to be a very tolerant person, but something died inside of me and now I’m never happy.

You know what die inside of me? You… And when you left, you took every last piece of my happiness, and sanity. As I sit in my room I think about what you did and might do in the future. I can feel my insides revolving, twisting, turning, blackening, and dying. I hate you…I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

The more I feel my parents shut down, the more I cut. The more I cut the more I cry. The more I cry the more drugged nap time I have. Until it comes to this…I’ve gone into full shut-down mode with five days left to go.

There’s more talk now, they mention a Dr. Parker-a great psychotherapist for teens going through hard times and phases. They say he’s really nice and really good with people like me. They talk about him as if they’ve known him for years.

But honey, they know as well as I do that this is going to end…I told Ron ten days and that’s all it’s going to be. No more, no less. Right now I just want to feel nothing. I want to feel numb…like morphine is coursing through my system, helping me not feel the stupid ugly world around me.

Just give me five more days, Daddy, let me finish proving that I do have a purpose and that I can stand up for myself when the punks want to hurt me. It’s ok Daddy…you’re not going to lose me…I’m gonna stay right where I am.

Five more days, dear darling, you aren’t bored yet are you? I think I’ll probably end up with a therapist by the end of the week…I hope you’re happy. You make me want to die.

I saw you broke up with that new boy and pulled another one into your grip. I hope you know how bad I want to kill you right now, because I’m seriously considering it. You made me a stupid intolerant, nobody and I’m counting up the number of boys that leave you crying. Did you use the one you recently left to get closer to your current one?

Five more days and I’m holding you down until you rot and lie stinking in the earth.

Love Always- Tommy Joe

Chapter Text

I’m not sure why I’m telling you this…you’ve got plenty of friends, connections. I’ve heard you spread rumors faster than forest fires, but I guess since you ditched me for someone new and another boy after that one, I’ve got nothing to lose.

I have Tommy Time...a term that currently can be compared with the terrible two’s. Which apparently I didn’t outgrow very well. And when we hear terrible two’s we think crying, screaming, kicking toddlers, with ugly crumbled faces and clenched fists.

Which looks cute in pictures but then you get them in public places-restaurants, your weird neighbor’s kid’s well practiced yet well failed trumpet solo at school, and churches-and all hell breaks loose.

Well I’m not that bad, I won’t throw myself on the ground kicking and screaming because somebody got a bigger freaking piece of cake, or God forbid there wasn’t a pony at my birthday party, which I’ve seen with my older sister Lisa more than once. But I have been knows to throw whatever is closest to me at the nearest person, or do some hardcore pouting complete with back-talking, lip pooching, arm crossing, foot stomping, door slamming, drama.

And this is known as Tommy The Terrible.

Daddy deals with it now…it’s either “The child is having a meltdown” and he’ll pick me up (I’m not that heavy) and put me somewhere quiet for Tommy Time until I can reasonably discuss what the problem is. Or it’s “The child is having a tantrum…go pick your own switch and I’ll beat the problem out of you…and if that doesn’t work I’ll do it outside so that the whole world can see.”

And okay…I haven’t made it to the “pick your switch” stage of the game since I was five and scrapping with the boys down the block, but Tommy Time is a pretty big recurrence, even now.

See you do to me what scrapping with boys or no pony at a birthday party did to Lisa. So when all of these thoughts coming at me like “Yes we can, no we can’t, yes we can, no we can’t. We’re. After. You.” Kept rushing at me a mile a minute, I finally stopped…and snapped.

I’ve heard my mother tell Ron she’s scared of me when Tommy The Terrible get’s all rambunctious, but she better be happy about Daddy already being home when I threw a pair of scissors at the wall and missed. My parents watched them bounce off the kitchen window, fall onto the edge of the counter, and then land by my feet, blade open.

And when they looked back over and I regained half my mind, I yelled at them and anyone else that cared to listen, that it just wasn’t fair!

It wasn’t fair you get to hurt so many people, and that we don’t do anything about it until half our sanity is gone. And it isn’t fair that Dia sits back and lets Ron do all the work, and Ron lets her do that. It’s not fair how he could hold me while I cried three days ago, and now he pushes me away. And it isn’t fair that I acted like such a brat to my parents when they raised me right, and that I do hurt myself to prove you’re a punk.

And I stuck out my lip and put my foot down and lowered my head and cried. Ron watched me sit on the floor cross-leg and watched me cry for a while before doing as he always does, and picking me up. He told me I was being silly and then he carried me to his office and put me in Tommy Time.

Then when I knew he was with Dia, I listened to them discuss finding me a therapist…

Five more days, only five more beautiful days and maybe you’ll understand what you did, and Ron will understand what I did.

-Love Always- Tommy Joe

Chapter Text

Your Rules Don’t Apply To Me
Day Seven
The I’m Sorry’s.

 

The unfortunate thing about most struggling relationships is when you go through the guilt stage where everything is your own fault whether it’s actually true or not. Think about it, first you cry, then you get angry and bipolar, you eat like a pig or you don’t eat at all, you get rid of any contact with that person, you listen to music that reflects your mood, you wear something that would make them want you back, and then you get yourself someone new.

It’s kind of a beautiful little process you have to go through but unfortunately I have not found a way to skip the guilt stage. This is where you let your guard down, you write a million letters to them explaining your sides of the argument and you seal them in envelopes and get ready to send them…but never do.

Good thing too because most, if not all, of these letters have the same concept.

Dear Whoever,

I’m really sorry you and I both let it fade away. I do not believe in second chances but if you said you were sorry I would totally melt and make-out with you on the spot. However I really hate you at the moment, you ruined my life and I am absolutely miserable, I will probably never move on. Thanks a lot.
Sincerely, your name here.
Admittedly I have written letters like this and it’s stressing. I have recently realized that people don’t know how to respond to excessive apologizing, it perturbs them, it’s annoying and a waste of time and it makes you look like a pathetic twat. I have found a solution or two though. A) if you’re brave repeating your apologies in a public place such as a Target or a coffee shop will bring unwanted attention. Therefore your partner will do anything to shut you up. B) For The cowardly (like me) there is always the old fashioned letter to mail out.

If you have any common sense you won’t beg for them back and you won’t take them back. Your letters will not consist of, “You broke my heart.” Instead here’s the new format written to you who used me for cuter boys.

Dear Unmentionable,

I didn’t realize that not only was I not good enough for you, but I wasn’t quick on my feet. What I seem to be getting from you is that you felt challenged because I was smarter than you and you were afraid of being humiliated in front of all your pathetic friends.

So here is everything you want to hear-

I’m sorry you dated me, I’m sorry we ever kissed, hugged, held hands, or hung out together. I’m sorry you’re a selfish twat, I am very sorry for almost losing my virginity to you, I’m sorry for allowing you to raid my movie collection and my pantry, I’m sorry I made you cookies and cupcakes, I’m sorry you’re a lying cheating bitch, I’m sorry you aren’t capable of feeling emotions, and I’m sorry you suck at everything.

Love-Tommy Joe-

I could go on but you’re not even worth it. After you make a handful of those and send your best one out all you can do is wait for a rude text message or a letter back.

So Mr. I can get anyone I want. Just wait until people find out about you and everything you’ve done. Do not ever doubt me, you will be unhappy. I only hope you’ve learned something. I’ve forgiven myself for the mistakes I’ve made. Have you?

-Love Tommy Joe-

We should be able to kill ourselves in our heads and be reborn again.

Chapter Text

Your Rules Don’t Apply To Me-Chapter 8
Day Eight
House Wife.

 

There are those things most people hate to do and then there are the handful of people that enjoy doing those things and it seems when it comes to house work…doing anything and everything I can to take you off my mind is my best friend. My parents have stopped noticing it’s just something new every day and they’ve stopped acting surprised at my weight and the number of cuts on my wrist, how many times I’ve been ugly and every Tommy Tantrum that sent me into isolation.

Even my mother leaves the kitchen when I come in from school or wherever because here’s the news on my latest nervous distraction…I clean house. And most people think-whatever cleaning is good- but have you ever spent three hours on your hands and knees cleaning the floors just because someone made you mad?

I bake a lot too things I’d never eat but my dad’s gained a little bit of weight and now I’m getting in trouble for cooking. I don’t think that’s really fair…would he rather deal with me crying or falling out and screaming?

I’ve heard around school that you’re calling me desperate since I keep writing you letters and shoving them in your locker or on the windshield of your car. I’m not really desperate I’m only informing you of what’s going down, why and how.

You better feel good that in two days I’ll stop clinging to the hopes of you realizing how stupid you are. My parents are getting calls from your parents saying that I’m harassing you. I’m not sure if they mentioned my dad laughing at them and yelling, “My Ass.” Before hanging up. I knew he was still good for something.

So we got on the I love you page again and I made a cake that my dad said he’s love to eat but couldn’t. Then he told me to write kiss my ass in icing on it and give it to you to see if your parents would call for harassment again.

I’m attaching this note to a pink and black frosted cake which you could in return eat or throw at something moving…like me. Or that new ex boyfriend I saw you get rid of recently. Are you currently single? Congratulations on five minutes of alone time.

As someone who has experience in failing relationships let me give you some advice on how to run yours. A) You’re ugly. B) You’re a traitor. C) I will win any argument you put out so think twice before you say anything to me.

I hope this cake means a lot to you, you can give the pan back whenever you’re finished with it. I’d truly appreciate that and I’d really appreciate it if you took the time to scrub your mouth germs off of it before you gave it back.

My mother keeps telling me not to give you the cake, that I’ll end up hurt again but what can hurt worse than what you’ve already done? You’ve made a fool out of everyone so what’s pink cake to the face? Absolutely nothing, so I’m going to agree with my dad on this one…I’m going to give you a cake that says kiss my ass and hope that you don’t kick it instead. Hey guess what though? If you kick my ass that is harassment and that’ll getcha good.

You know my game is almost over, I mean really there are only two days and I’m going to miss doing this. It’s occupied my time for a good eight days and distracted me from plans to kill you and make the world a happier place.

Now I’m sure you won’t miss it…you probably don’t even read these letters. Maybe you do and you put them in a collage because you’re creepy and you secretly still like me. Or maybe that’s just my own thought pattern being weird and lonely. Either way I’ll go back to whatever I did before this and you’ll go on picking your way through every boy in the school gay, straight, or bi.

How sad and insecure you must me…

It’s really sad to me when there are people so afraid of being alone that being with someone 24/7 isn’t even enough. And those people can’t keep a relationship for more than a week and that’s just irritating. I’m sure you can get help for that one.

I guess I’m more the opposite I’d rather be alone than with someone. My mother saying I’m a wall flower, I observe people and stay quiet rather than face-to-face conversations. But it’s okay because from just listening I know everything you know and sometimes even more.

By the way I’ve got plans this Friday and I’m very proud of myself for that. My parents keep saying I deserve this by that time we’ll have stopped socializing and you’ll be something slowly making your way out of my mind. And even if it’s just coffee that’s okay because it’ll be better than thinking of how much I hate you.

Just don’t try to ruin it for me or anything. This is my chance to be a part of something other than your verbal humiliation. No showing up with that cake of finding a way to blow it all up and embarrass me.

Because then I’ll get people involved…you’ve been warned.

So let me leave you with this-

“Alas I am dying beyond my means.”

Love Always-Tommy Joe.

Chapter Text

Your Rules Don’t Apply To Me-chapter 9
Day Nine
I Wanna Get Over You, Before You Get Over Me

 

You’ll be happy to know that-A) after this one more day and B) when I went out the other day it wasn’t a complete disaster. Sure…I’m kind of socially stupid and I don’t know what to say or when to say it but good people over look that problem and help you along.

And here’s the deal…it’s only been nine days but you’ve gone through a handful of boys already so I’ll go ahead and tell you. In that group of people there was this one guy and it seems way too soon to be crushing on another person but he was so sweet and he had the prettiest blue eyes and the cutest freckles.

Hopefully that doesn’t make you jealous because he was kinda way hotter than you anyways. Sorry but not really…I also want you to know that I have gotten rid of anything that you have me or reminds me of you. And that cake pan? Having that back would be nice I have things to do with it.

There is so much I want to tell you about Friday night but I won’t tell you everything since I can’t trust you ever again. I will tell you that the guy I met kept asking about the cuts and my weight and all of it so I finally told him about you.

You’re becoming popular because they all listened to the whole thing about you using me and the letters I’ve written and everything I’d done to myself or to other people. You should probably watch your back here pretty soon because they seemed pretty intent on torturing you.

The guy with pretty eyes and freckles kept saying he was so sorry that all of that had happened. Then he mentioned how he had been through a really hard break up with a boy recently who didn’t use him but cheated on him instead.

What a small stupid world we live in, right?

It felt so good to have someone to relate to and to have friends that accepted me and kept encouraging me to pull through all the mess I was going through. The unfortunate thing is that you act like you don’t care but come the day after you’re going to be missing something. And I’ll drop you hard, quick and mean but I’ll never pick you back up.

My parents are so excited that this is coming to an end! It’s amazing my mother keeps smiling at me and my dad is still telling me he loves me every day. I just hope he wasn’t only saying that in hopes that I would feel better and stop writing you. That would hurt so bad…I’m not so sure I’d be able to make it through all of that.

I’ll just have to say it first…

I’m leaving this one short because tomorrow on the last day I’ll have a lot to say.

High-school turned us into the people we said we’d never be.

Love Always-Tommy Joe.

Chapter Text

Your Rules Don’t Apply To Me-Chapter 10
Day Ten
Heartbreaker

 

Damian,
Damian, Damian, Damian!! I have a NEW BOYFRIEND! My God I’m so excited you should be happy for me! Let me tell you about him. His name is Adam he’s the one with the pretty blue eyes and freckles. He’s really tall like taller than you and kick Damian’s ass strong. He’s got a killer voice anyone would be jealous of and he’s got the nicest attitude I’ve ever experienced.

I told my parents all about him and they smiled and said, “Oh Tommy Hoe he seems so much nicer than Damian. When do we get to meet him?” They want to meet him! They never asked to meet you. Maybe they sensed you were bad news way before I did and just didn’t tell me. So they’re meeting him next Friday he’s coming over for dinner and then I’m having dinner at his house on Saturday.

Oh! And guess what? Lisa is coming home from school to meet him too and have dinner. She’ll be down all weekend which is great because it’s been so long since I’ve seen her and I’ve missed her so much. I have to tell her everything about you and me and Adam.

So I want to tally the numbers and explain to you what happened during the past ten days. Adam counted all the cuts-there are fifty-five. I have lost twenty pounds, wrote six I’m sorry letters and found the best one, threw nine Tommy tantrums, cried twelve times, made six cakes, an ass load of cookies and I have written ten letters signed the same way and placed differently each time.

After I had this letter over Adam is going to come over and throw out all of my razors so I can’t cut anymore and he’s going to make me eat and then he promised he’s sing if I promised to play guitar for him. That seemed like a fair trade so I’m happy and excited.

My parents are going out so they won’t meet him then but that’s okay next Friday is fine tonight we’ll be busy. When Adam asked how I was going to give this letter to you I shrugged and decided, “I’m going to walk over holding you hand knock on the door and hand it to you personally.”

So I hope you have a good attitude…or Adam will damage you.

Also Adam’s friends really like me and are totally okay with us dating. They keep telling me Adam won’t ever hurt me the way you did and that I can trust him to take care of me anyways I need it. So those dead black flowers I mentioned back during the first day? I’ve thrown them out and Adam’s already replaced them with living red roses.

He says he’ll replace them every time they look like they’re wilting but even if they die I’ll keep them and press them into a book for memories. He’s not ashamed of me he’ll hold my hand…he doesn’t care what people think and I admire that.

Even though I think you’re really mean I hope you finally get to the person you used the rest of us for. I hope he’s perfect for all your troubles-with the best smile and the prettiest hazel eyes and white teeth and a good kisser. Isn’t that what you said you wanted? Who knows…maybe Karma will hit you hard and you’ll wind up sad and lonely. And Adam and I will pass you on the streets together years later and we’ll give you a sad smile and know you never made it to the top. You never experienced happiness.

I would never wish that on you though…

What time we did have together I don’t regret, you were an experience I’ll never forget and I do thank you for the little bit of time we had together listening to Pat Benatar and Metallica vinyl’s and talking about things we just couldn’t mention to our friends.

I am not a clingy person I need you to understand that I just wanted you to know that you really are hurting and harming people by using them to get to the next perfect person you don’t even know. That perfect person isn’t going to like your “I don’t care about you” attitude and I’m afraid that one day someone really is going to kick your ass, Damian.

I need you to know that I’m giving you a fair warning and you need to listen to it or you’ll be miserable just like the rest of us were. So check the attitude work on your pick up skills, then go in search of the perfect person without using people.

So Damian…good luck! I hope in the end you’re happy and you take everything I’ve said into consideration. As soon as this letter leaves my hand I’ll drop you and leave you alone and you’ll be able to finally get away from me. I’m sorry if I bothered you (which I know I did) I only wanted to hand onto the memories a little longer.

Now I know you weren’t the one and that’s perfectly okay, I can and will get there even if it takes the rest of my life.

Thank you so much for the time you spent with me and remember this-

Don’t cry because it’s over-smiles because it happened.

Love Always,

Tommy Joe and Adam Lambert.