9meow | Post-text

You never knew anything about me, and I never knew anything about you; at least I was trying. I’m still trying, even though I have no desire to. The fact that I’ll always be trying disgusts me, but that’s the nature of the wound you inflicted. It always had to be about you— there was never room for anyone else. Now you can have all the space you want. When you broke that bottle it wasn’t the glass that hurt. I won’t feel guilty anymore, not in the pure way that you want. That took a while for me to get over. It’ll probably take much longer. Don’t contact me again right when I stopped wanting you to.