Thanks for breaking my heart two times. Into a million pieces.
Both as a friend and as a fellow writer.
You didn’t listen when I was trying to say sorry, for something you perceived as something wrong I did, but I was never behind it. You closed your doors just because you thought of me that way, without confirming it from me, no matter how uncomfortable it may feel.
Still hoping you’ll forgive me. But I’m not demanding it from you anymore. But I’ll give forgiveness to you anyway. Not now, but eventually, I’ll get there.
But, guess what?
I will recover even if I’m still sad about it.
I will do great things with my life.
I will do it not to please you or admire me, but for me.
I do not need a lot of fans to feel that I am a great writer.
I do not need people, hordes of them, admiring my stories online.
What I only want is sincerity and love from readers. And I have both, even if I don’t have a big fanbase like yours.
Whatever you say, I wish you the best.
Even if you still think ill or lowly of me.
I hope being at the top won’t cause you to plummet so hard to the ground.