The real history texts say Caesar stabbed Brutus in the back.

I am now convinced that packaging is everything.

Almost anything can be forgiven if it came from/in something pretty. And I am tired of extending kindness, sincerity, honesty to people who seem to take me entirely at face value - my words, body, intent. I am sick of tired excuses. Lying douchebags are less tolerable than plain douchebags, if equally as annoying.

Everything is forgivable if you have the looks to distract/derail a person's anger process. And I am sorry if I lack the looks, tact or talent to make you feel better about yourself.

Yes I'm a smart-ass. But I've never imposed my own ideas about 'humanity' or 'personality' on you. Neither have I put you down with the same malicious-sincerity you do me. And that's okay (it still is). I've dismissed your indiscretions (as I always have), for the very (and only) reason that you've been there (mostly), despite and in spite of all this.

But some things, no matter how pretty, are just not forgivable.

I have relented on too many an occasion, apologized, too many a time. And maybe you have been conditioned to the idea that to me, friendships require no conditions (perhaps you should try practicing it - It's no rocket science).

You've seem to mastered the navigation routes around this ideal and seen me crawl back for mercy, seek your approval for my feeble attempts at change, offer parts of me for your relentless displacements - albeit willingly. Cause like I've always told you, if you want to play sadist, I'll be your masochist. I've accepted it as a silent clause to our friendship, willingly.

I've been a smart-ass from the beginning, babe. I've never had any pretense about it. So why a problem, now? You say it comes and goes - but you've never been a grit and bear sort of guy, so why wait this long?

I am tired of your unprovoked attacks and outbursts. Years of good could easily be forgotten with one slip of the tongue for you. But mostly I am tired of even trying. All efforts are lost with you. Your tune changes monthly, and I am tired of guessing which line's next. If I was easier on the eyes then maybe I'd be easier to swallow.

But for now:

I can easily forgive, still. Forget, even. But do not take my silence for kindness.

It's just plain, healthy, futility.