There was a time in my life where I would have given anything to see your number calling me at 1230 in the morning. Vaguely, I remember when that was the norm in fact. And there was a time in my life I never would have hit "ignore". Twice.
There's a reason. Please figure it out. I don't care what you think of the book, or your chapter, or me. I don't want you in my life as anything other than a character in a book I wrote. It's not going to change. I don't care if you come in peace. I don't want you to come at all (for once in my life there is no sexual innuendo attached to that statement at all). I did everything to make sure your character was so fucking different from you in so many ways that you'd have no reason to contact me about it. And yet I've heard more from you this week than the dude I've been banging on the reg. Not okay.
Don't think this was a flippant decision. Don't think I didn't think about trying. If you remember, I'm a crazy person, and when I want something, I'll make up lies and shady stories about non-existant job interviews to get it. If you knew how many times I had come close to calling you, once to even showing up, well...you might get a restraining order. No. Just kidding. But you'd be surprised. And despite all of those times, I never did it. I never caved. And I never want to and I probably never will. It's not going to change.
I even had this great picture of you holding two cupcakes looking large where I blocked out your face. I contemplated posting it once. I didn't. Because despite the fact that it went so well with the post, made me laugh, and made you look like a fatty, I just didn't want to deal with whatever bullshit it might bring from you. There is no place for you in my life. Even if it's just a congrats or a what's up or a how are you. I don't care about how much of a whirl wind your life has been as of late. I stopped caring like, two years ago. I'm sorry. I hope you're well. I hope you're happy. And that's it.