I hate how every time I think I've finally moved on, every time I think I'm doing better, I end up thinking about you. It's the worst feeling ever. I was scrolling through my Spotify playlists, trying to find something, when I came across the playlist you made me all the way back in 2022. I nearly broke down then and there. The playlist itself is gone now- either deleted or made private- but I've got my copy of it. It hurts. If I knew why you hated me, why you blocked me and ignored me, maybe at least I could blame myself. Maybe I could hate me for whatever I did like you do, maybe I could say it was all my fault. But you blocked me without a word, and that hurts. You knew what happened with friends in the past, people blocking me and disappearing without a trace. I want to check on you, make sure you're ok, but after I wished you a happy birthday you blocked me on everything, not just insta. I hate it. I hate that I can't hate you, but I can't hate myself. I have no one to blame because I don't know what happened. All I know is you hate me.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Shit
Non-FictionJust some random (not random) stuff I wrote about a person that doesn't matter to me (they matter a lot and I can't stop thinking about them and missing them)
