I wonder if I even want a response anymore. Because I always enjoy the challenge of being ignored. I'll complain about it, then still call you when I'm drunk, text you when I'm lonely. No response. And I'll go through my day as if I never was rejected. Neglect to tell my friends I had a relapse, that I'd been relapsing for 5 months now with no signs that there was even a good cause to fight for. Maybe I don't want anyone for my own, too complicated, too public, too much effort. So I like to intrude on things already in progress to be everything their missing, that thrill. But thrills only last so long. You taught me that.