Happy birthday to me. I realized something today (really last week on Eddie's birthday).

You've lied to me so many times over the years about so many things. From tattoos to children, some big lies that I may never forget and other little ones that will probably fade away in time. Just like I hope you do.

I called you my brother. I defended your name and always stuck up for you when everyone else couldn't stand you. I gave you a place to live, when you didn't really have anywhere else to go. And even when everyone knew you were full of shit, I still believed everything you said.. because you were my brother. The ONE person in the world I could count on no matter what.

You are not my brother. You are a stranger, a ghost. I can sit here and repeat word for word all the different lies you've told me. To give a few examples, I'll start with the most recent one.

The morning I woke up and you were moving out of my house. I asked you what you were doing and your reply was.. "I'm putting some of my things in storage. Don't worry about it." LIE.

The day before you moved in to my house. We were at CiCis with my mother and sister. I slapped you on the shoulder in jest and you FLIPPED out on me saying I hit your new tattoo. Berated me, yelled at me.. generally made me feel like shit. Days later, I saw you wandering around the house in a tank, and what was that on your shoulder? NOTHING. LIE.

You told me you and your son visited in the house while Eddie & I were sleeping and your son played with Scruffy. Uh? We sleep with the door locked and the dog in our room. Gee. LIE.

I can also think of about 5 more tattoo stories and the trouble I got in to because I hurt you. LIES! ALL LIES! There is not a tattoo on your body.

I could go on. But I'll skip right to the point of the matter.

So. If you are still reading this and have indeed not tossed it away into your trash folder. Let me tell you something, Jason Donahoe. I know that you are a compulsive liar, as do most of your friends, and though I should be angry at you for it, I'm not. Get help. Call the lakeside number and get yourself some help. You can't stand other people to be happy, you must yell and bring down that happiness where ever you see it. And it's wrong.

I'm not mad at you because of your lies. I pity you and your need for constant attention.

I'm mad at you and quite possibly will hate you for the way you up and left without notice, without paying money that you owed me and Eddie. For making me feel like shit every time I talked to you just because you were having a bad day, a bad life (as you would say).

Life is what you make of it. If you want to be depressed and sad than so be it. Don't take others down with you. And your "If it doesn't involve me or effect my general world/life, fuck it" policy.. only accents the fact that you need help.

This is it. There will be no happy reunion somewhere done the line. Everything you could of lied to me about you've done do. I'm not your friend, I'm not your sister. I'm nothing to you.

Pay me, get your stuff out of my house and don't even try to explain your lies. I've known you for almost 11 years and you've done nothing but attempt to hurt me.

Good Bye Jason Donahoe.