You can’t be happy for me. It’s called being selfish. You miss me in your life only because you’re lonely, only because it has changed for the worst for you. I’m happy. Understand I’ve made the right decision for me and if you did the same to me then I would understand. Some people don’t help us grow. Some people damage us when we try to hold onto them. My grip was so tightly wrapped around you and you had no idea. You didn’t feel me. You didn’t even fucking notice. It wasn’t until I let go when you felt some kind of loss. You took advantage of my love and the worst thing is you didn’t even know it. At least if you knew the extent at which I tried, it would’ve been easier. You didn’t even know, because you didn’t even care. And now you look at me, anger filling your light blue eyes. I hope you know I’m used to that face. Filled with anger when you see me. I’m used to disappointing you and pissing you off because your emotions were so easily angered. It’s called being selfish. Because when I don’t care to your needs, you get pissed off. You challenged our friendship so often because you didn’t fucking care. You hurt me without knowing and maybe that’s my own fault, but I thought I made it obvious. I thought all the times I stood by you for hours watching you mix, or being the only one to dance at your shows, or convincing your girlfriend to stay, or trying my hardest to hold back my true feelings would make it obvious. It may be my own fault, but it doesn’t mean I have to stay and continue to deal with those consequences. You’re hurt because I left. You’re hurt because I couldn’t be in a friendship where only I tried and you gave no shits. I’m sorry for saving my energy. I’m sorry for saving my time. I’m sorry for finally putting myself over you. I should’ve never pretended like I was okay. I should’ve never acted like I wasn’t suffering. I was. Now you know and you’re mad. Fuck you. I didn’t mean shit to you. Stop acting like I did.