You really think I’m the villain in all this, don’t you?

That’s what this is about. That tone in your voice, the way you keep looking at me like I’m some kind of monster. Like I planned this. Like I wanted to make you feel like shit. Christ.

I don’t even know where to start with you anymore. You’re always on edge, always crying or accusing or twisting things into some emotional mess. And every single time, I bite my tongue—I have been biting my tongue—for years. And I’m the one who’s manipulative?

We’re all just trying to have a good time, yeah? Touring nonstop, no sleep, no privacy, cameras in our faces 24/7… You think we have the energy to walk on eggshells because you’re scared we’ll forget you? You think we have time to tiptoe around your fear of being left behind when we can’t even breathe some days without someone scrutinising it?

You do this, you know. You make everything about you.

It’s not that we don’t like you. Jesus. It’s not even about that. You just… you take the air out of the room sometimes. Every time we’re trying to just relax, have a laugh, you’re there watching us like we’re doing something wrong. You insert yourself, then act hurt when we’re not falling over ourselves to comfort you.

And the group chat? Really? That’s your smoking gun? You found out we had a separate chat and now you think it’s some big conspiracy to destroy your self-worth? You ever consider—just once—that maybe we needed a space to breathe that wasn’t laced with landmines of your feelings?

You keep throwing around words like “excluded” and “forgotten” like we’re all out to hurt you. But have you even stopped to listen to how that sounds? Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be made to feel like an abuser just for not inviting someone to get burgers at 1am? We didn’t do it to be cruel. We did it to survive.

And you—God, you keep talking about athazagoraphobia like it’s some trump card. Like it gives you the right to guilt us into submission. I’m not saying your fears aren’t real, but don’t weaponize them and then pretend you’re the victim when people finally set boundaries. I didn’t cause your fear. Don’t pin that on me. Don’t pin any of this on me.

You say we rolled our eyes. Shared glances. Got annoyed. Yeah. Maybe we did. But do you ever wonder why?

You demand space and then beg for inclusion in the same breath. You want honesty but crumble the second someone tells you how they actually feel. You corner people emotionally and then cry when they stop engaging. That’s not connection, love. That’s control.

You keep saying, “No one felt guilty.” And you know what? Maybe we didn’t. Not because we’re heartless. But because we were tired. Because it’s impossible to feel guilty when every word we say is twisted into proof that we don’t care. We do care. Or… we did. But caring started to feel like a trap.

You act like I’m gaslighting you, like I’m manipulating you. But I’ve just been trying to get you to see. That maybe it’s not us. Maybe it’s not some big plan to erase you. Maybe it’s just you needing more than anyone ever could give—and blaming the people closest to you when they can’t.

So no, I don’t feel sorry. I don’t feel like I’m the bad guy. I feel like I’ve been backed into a corner by someone who doesn’t want understanding—only compliance. And I’m done with it.

If you want to stay in this band, if you want to be part of us, then stop acting like we owe you penance for every emotion you feel. Grow up. Be honest. And stop looking at me like I’m the one who broke you.

Because I didn’t.

You did.