little thoughts.

We were best friends for eight years. I wouldn’t have survived those years without you. I know it, you know it.
And you fucking ghosted me like I was some loser trying to get into your pants. Deleted me from your life like I was no one.
And while I’m not angry anymore, I am, and will always be, totally heartbroken about it. Because despite whatever I had done to make you not want me around anymore, our friendship, every single thing we’d been through over those eight years, didn’t matter enough to you to have a conversation about it before you decided to be done with it.

I hope you’re happy. I really do.
But no. I don’t understand.
You never gave me a chance to.

this is thought #42992.

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