You know. I’d be perfectly OK with you never speaking to me again. Ever. Anytime you do I get this sense of “I still care” shit. It radiates off of you. I wish you would talk to me like a normal person. Not that you’re some awkward sixteen year old who is in a clumsy stage. You couldn’t treat me like a friend when we were dating, and you still have problems with it now. I’m glad we’re exes. Really I am.
And I would’ve let this go a long time ago, if it wasn’t for the fact that you start talking to me the second I stop getting reminded of you. You’re like this annoying reminder of a mistake. A big fat mistake. Just.. let me be. You owe me.
