Purple Pants.
Yes, you made me feel so uncomfortable about my sexual orientation, when you turned out to be bisexual. You watched as everyone thought you were a little princess, standing high in your heels. They were back stabbers, and they still say terrible things about you. But you have the guts to call them friends. When weed, or booze comes into play you are there to have the time of your life. No one really trusted you, no one really liked you (not for a long time, at least). You then started to become more.. let’s say.. ‘artistic’. Calling yourself a photographer, splashing paint onto canvases and tightly fitting your beanie on your head. I even remember when you wore those ‘gangster hats’, and purple pants. Aww yes, purple pants. I’m sure that was my first memory of you. Don’t know where you stand now in society, but I hope it’s nothing like how you faced me. Your little smirk always made me furious, your mouth ran like a marathon runner and I couldn’t keep up with it. You hurt me, yes you did. You wouldn’t even believe that it was I, who disliked you the most.
