The concept of "leave me alone" continues to elude you. The "you" I'm referring to doesn't apply to just one person here.

It seems like the people on my DNI (Do Not Interact) list are committed to getting on my last nerve. Granted, there's only two of you so far, and you're both on here because your actions put you there, but my point stands. I made it super clear to both of you that at the very least, I wanted space. I wanted some distance and some time to think things over before I entertained a discussion with you. It's the least either of you could do…and you couldn't do it.

I'll start with you, Mom.

I can at least give you the credit of giving me some space after our fallout. For the first week, you kept your distance. We talked when it was absolutely necessary. It was great. Apparently you felt that I only needed a week to decide on talking to you. Unfortunately for you, that's not how it works.

You wronged me. You're the one that hurt me. That means reconciliation comes from my end; I have that power. You don't get to decide when or where or how we talk, you don't get to demand we make up because you're my mother and you say so (I'm not six), and you certainly don't get to talk about double standards just because I'm talking to Curtis.

I said in my email to you that I would never consider Curtis my father, even though we're biologically related. I still don't, but after thinking it over, and talking with Dr. Collins, I decided that I shouldn't cut Curtis out. He's not the one at fault here; he's just as much a victim as I am in this whole mess. After that first week, I ended up going to The Savoy to try and build something with him. Our relationship is a work in progress right now, and I won't see him the way I know he (and you) wants me to, but it wouldn't be right for me to "punish" him for something he didn't even know about. For the record, he still doesn't want to talk to you.

To be honest, I was thinking about talking to you in full after another week. You *are* my mother after all, and I can't stay mad at you forever. However, any talk we're meant to have should've been done on my timetable, and I don't appreciate you overstepping my boundary. I also don't appreciate you trying to assert your motherhood to get what you want. Maybe you think I'm miserable without you, that I won't be keeping my distance for too long, but if anything, you've earned yourself at least another week of the cold shoulder. I'm being selfish, I know that, but it's the kind of selfishness that I've neglected for far too long. I should put myself first for once.

And now to you, "best friend."

You have a lot of nerve still using that term with me, thinking that if you constantly remind me of how we used to (yes - *used to*) be besties, I'll cave and take you back. Unfortunately, it's a bit harder to avoid you than it is to avoid my mom since we have a lot of classes together, but that doesn't stop me from trying. The first step is changing seats, the next will be independent schedule selection, and maybe I'll go so far as to block your number and social media profile, since you can't seem to understand what a boundary is, defined or not. Okay, maybe I won't actually do that, but I've considered it…a lot. It always comes up when my curiosity gets the better of me and I read the novels you send me.

You put a lot into your messages, and part of me should feel bad. The more I read of them, though, the more reluctant I feel to take that leap. Granted, I wasn't going to try and rekindle our friendship anyway, certainly not sooner than rekindling my relationship with my mother, but there was just something…insidious about your words. Beyond it still being focused on you and how hurt you still are, you seem to go from making excuses to placing blame on those you made excuses over. For example, with Cameron, you went from "I don't love him" to "he wasn't being a doting boyfriend so it's more his responsibility that we fell apart." With Dex, you went from "he'll come to his senses about me soon enough" to "he's a jerk and isn't worth anything."

Once again, you fail to see how it's YOU who's the problem.

Maybe a few months ago, I would've just accepted a lot of what you said because you'd have a point to it. But now, with the rose-colored glasses off, I'm a little embarrassed that I ever thought that way. They're perfectly normal, good guys being slandered because you're angry at them for things you did. Make that make sense, Joss. Please.

You two really don't grasp the idea of "distance" or "boundaries," nor do you think of anyone but yourself. One of you kept a secret to protect yourself from rightful scrutiny, and one of you cruelly lashed out when hit with that scrutiny. Neither of you have earned reconciliation with me, and no amount of pushing and begging and whatever else will change my mind, and despite what you may think, I'm doing just fine without you two being present in my life:

I'm happy at the Gallery. I go to Ava and Taggert when I need a shoulder to cry on or when I need advice. I'm starting to build a companionship with Curtis. I hang out with Cam, and with Spencer we become our own version of the Three Musketeers. I go out with Spencer and have the time of my life; we're going on a little date with his cousin and her boyfriend (your supposed "ex-crush") in a few days. My life is just fine, and I'm sure you two want back in. Instead, you get to stand out in the proverbial cold, and maybe, when you're able to find the compassion to let me make the decisions about us, you can come back into the warmth.