What a Girl Wants

So this is an update from "What a Girl Wants." I messed up. I couldn’t help but continue texting him, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like it was going well. But his silence crept in, dragging days into weeks with no replies, just a cold, suffocating void where our conversations used to live. I know he’s a busy man; his work consumes him, and his channel demands every ounce of his focus. Yet, a simple “hi” or “hello” wouldn’t have been too much to ask for—to acknowledge my existence, to remind me I wasn’t just a ghost haunting his inbox.

It’s ironic, really. He laid down the rules of engagement as if guiding me through a dark labyrinth, and I’ve done my best to navigate it according to his whims. But each desperate message I send feels like a cry for attention, like I’m screaming into an abyss that refuses to echo back. That’s not who I am. No matter how hectic life gets, there’s always a moment to step back, a brief pause to check in on the one who lingers in your thoughts—just to ensure they’re okay.

Every time I post, he watches my story, shadows flickering through his unresponsive eyes, yet he remains silent. I’ve made my decision—this twisted game with him must end, it’s time to call it a day. I can see clearly now he’s lost interest, and it would be futile to squander more time and energy chasing after someone who won’t meet me halfway. I’ve deleted our chat, severing the last thread that connected us, hoping I won’t hear from him again in this life or the next.

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