He messaged. The fucking bastard whom promised me marriage, and a carriage, messaged me. A simple ‘HEY, call me. I need to talk to you’. As if nothing had happened. As if he never lied to me and broke my heart, as if us being together never happened, as if I never went and googled rings, wedding dresses, wedding cakes, and summer colours. He messaged, like what we had didn’t exist, as if he never cheated on me, and we were two strangers inquiring about the health of the other. He messaged, as if I never told my mother that she should expect a certain someone sending a proposal. He also messaged not from one number, but two different numbers, because I ignored his messages. The second one I mistook for a cousin, and I was obligated to reply.
I believe in ignoring people. Nothing drives a human more insane, then being forgotten or ignored. And I wanted to do that, but my fucking cousin whom I am close with keeps changing his number and therefore instead of making him feel forgotten, I hurled my anger at him and made him feel like he still mattered (I think so anyways).
“FUCK OFF. JUST FUCK OFF AND FUCKING DIE YOU PIECE OF SHIT AND STOP FUCKING MESSAGING ME. STOP TALKING TO ME. GO DIE AND LET ME BE!”
“Are you serious?”
What do you say to a fucking arrogant piece of shit who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. You tell him to FUCK OFF and block his number for the umpteenth time.