I’m angry that you’re so upset. I don’t think you deserve to be. All this self pity, cries of ‘what’s wrong with me? Why did this happen?’ When you know the answer.
You should be grateful really; I gave you a real reason to wallow in the sadness that you love so much. But it’s no fun knowing there’s nobody waiting on you when you decide you’re ready to acknowledge the existence of others again.
I can’t fix you. Nothing can except you and you don’t even want to try. You look down on everyone around because they aren’t perfect but you refuse to change a single thing about yourself.
You don’t ‘process your emotions’ you sulk. For days and days on end and you never forget and you never forgive. You are a sad and bitter person who blames everyone but yourself.
Though I can’t deny you were good company at a time, I don’t think you really loved me. You are wed to the loneliness you refuse to leave and blame me for not pulling you out.
How dare you indulge in your self pity when it was you who did me wrong? Perhaps you’re right and I am thoughtless. But you think only of yourself and nothing more
And I know which I’d rather.