joji miller imagines

twitter

- in which a girl messages one of jojis secret twitter accounts every day, but he doesn't read them -

you let out a sigh, nibbling on your bottom lip. typing out the last message of your day, which you would send to joji, it had become your nightly routine.

about 5 months ago, you had discovered one of jojis secret twitter accounts, stupidgeorgie.

you had no connection to joji at all, but something in you made you type joji a message, telling him about your day.

it was pointless, joji would never reply and you didn't get anything out of it, besides a person who always listened.

something about messaging this tiny account seemed less scarier than messaging his main account.

which was probably flooded with dm's of desperate girls, and fuck boys who deem themselves as soundcloud rappers, asking for collabs.

so, you decided to message this account. it was old, joji probably even forgot he had it. it was oddly comforting to think he would never see any of the messages.

so you could say anything you want.

you messaged him every morning, half way through the day, and right before bed. and whenever you needed him.

it was stupid, and pretty pathetic, but it got you through every day.

your head hit the pillow and you let out a sigh, sending the message.

"i didn't cut myself today, surprisingly. not that you care. goodnight."

and within seconds, you fell asleep.

-

an entire week had passed, still messaging joji every night. because it had become a routine, it was nice being able to say whatever you needed to say to joji.

because he couldn't judge you if he didn't even see them.

you sat down at your vanity, brushing your hair  out with your fingers, sending the first message of the day.

"good morning, hope you have a good day. thank you for your music. it helps me more than you'll ever know. i love you."

you sat up from your vanity, grabbing your backpack and sliding it over your shoulder. you slipped on your shoes and left through your front door.

you pressed shuffle through the ballads album and "ILL SEE YOU IN 40" played through your earbuds.

the fall leaves blew through the sidewalk, a cold breeze running through your body, causing you you to shiver.

                                         -

today was a long day, classes were hard, you were failing calculus and you had broken your 4 day long stretch of being clean from self harming.

it was a bad fucking day.

and all you wanted was joji.

tears streamed down your face as you pushed open your bedroom door, tossing your bag on the ground, slamming the door behind you.

you threw your phone onto your bed then collapsed onto your mattress. burying your face into your pillows, and letting everything out.

you reached for your phone and opened the twitter app and went to messages, typing the last message.

"this is so pathetic. sorry i've been bothering you. i'll never message you again. no one cares and neither do you."

and you sent the message.