spilled ink

cinquante-deux

it's you, not me

and no,

i'm not saying this in a "oh everything is about me way" but this time, i know it's not my fault.

you want to talk about how you have no friends, but guess what. it's because of you. i didn't do anything this time and it feels so fucking great so for the love of satan get your head out of the gutter.

i'm not going to sit here and be sad about it. i'm not going to keep texting you only for you not to respond. fuck you. fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. you're a waste of my time, and i don't need you. and it feels so good to say that.

you're like poison, and i thought i needed you to live. but guess what¿ i don't. and idk why it took me 3 years to realize that but this is officially my goodbye. i hope you're happy, because i love you as a friend and i genuinely care about you.

maybe i'll get a text from you in a few years while i'm living my life and finally doing good for MYSELF.

and maybe i won't respond

which is probably a better answer then replying back to you