Maybe not literally the same situation, but the gist of the message is there, especially @ the end. If you still troll my blog.. Read this all the way through.. You know who you are:
“Tonight I listened to a voicemail you left me three months ago. In it, you told me to go fuck myself. I still remember that night. I still remember those words rolling off your tongue so gracefully. I remember wondering how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.
Two months ago I called you at three A.M. I expected you to ignore it, or to send me to voicemail; those were two of the things you were best at. You answered and I felt my heart begin to race; you probably thought it was because I missed you, but truthfully it was because I didn’t expect you to answer. I asked you how you were and you sat there quietly and confused. It was like you forgot that I existed and that I was once a part of your life. You told me “fine” and I smiled. That was the last conversation we had. I made sure to let go of you, and every negative word that was said, in a peaceful way.
Fast forward two months, and I still wonder how you are. I still wonder how your cat is and if you’ve seen any good movies lately. If you ever heard me say this, you’d probably blush like you used to whenever I said something sweet. You’d probably think I think these things because I still love you, that I still want you. But that is not the case. You see, six months ago I was jumping through hoops to please you. To make sure that you were happy before myself. To make sure that I was the one causing your happiness.
But it is not six months ago. It is now. And now I simply remember you as a person I gave my soul to. A person I told secrets to at 4am and messed around with to feel a sense of closeness. A person I loved, yes. But it is not six months ago. It is now, and now I miss you. I miss the way you called randomly just to ask how my day was. I miss the way you seemed to care, even if you didn’t. I miss the friendship and the secrets and the stories. And maybe one day things will be different. Maybe you’ll call me on a Tuesday afternoon and ask how my day was.
These are the things I think about before my eyes slowly close and I am finally rewarded with sleep. But for right now? Go fuck yourself. Seriously”