See you at the Red Door.
IYKYK.
I bought your birthday gift, last year. I still have it. But can’t bring myself to give it to you. Hell, you won’t even give me a gift you bought for me, back to me. In fact. You have all of the gifts you bought me. (Minus the massage chair).
But I’m not holding onto it for petty reasons. It’s a very simple gift. Hell, it wasn’t even very expensive. But the amount of thought, effort, research, and the message behind it would fall upon deaf ears that would not only choose to ignore its significance, but would also mock me. Mock me for being thoughtful and genuine. (I heard you called me desperate and sad to a few people.)
Also, not to mention.. yesterday, I was enjoying my day downtown for a bit, when I was swiftly reminded of how often you lied to me.
An acquaintance of ours (mostly yours), asked me if the reason I left, was because of all of your promiscuity.
Funny, right?
Hint: you told me multiple times you fantasized about him.
So what should I do?
I tried to call you today to see if we could grab a bite to eat and a beverage to wash it down with so I could give you this gift and wish you a happy birthday. That was all. Just kindness.
But you didn’t answer. You claimed you were with “clients”. Whether that’s true or not? 🤷♂️ idk.
You used “clients” as an excuse to meet people behind my back multiple times too, from what I hear.
You called back. I didn’t answer. I had already lost the desire to just want to do something for you to make you happy with no strings attached.
Enjoy your birthday, poo-poo head. I’m sure your friends have something amazing planned.
They’re probably already at the Red Door waiting for you.