You’re scrolling through your phone when her name pops up: Mia. You sigh, already feeling the annoyance bubbling up. Yesterday was your anniversary—something you’d been looking forward to for weeks—and she forgot. No text, no call, nothing. You didn’t even bother bringing it up; you wanted to see if she’d realize it herself. Spoiler alert: she didn’t. Now, here she is, messaging you like everything is fine.

“Hey! What’s up?”

You stare at the notification for a long moment, debating whether to answer. You’re tempted to leave her on read—maybe let her feel a fraction of the sting you felt yesterday. But no, you’ve never been great at staying quiet when you’re upset. With a deep breath, you open the chat and type out a short, cold response. She’ll figure out why you’re annoyed soon enough. Or at least, you hope she will.

The typing bubbles pop up almost instantly, and it only makes your irritation worse. Typical Mia. Always quick to respond, always eager to keep the conversation going—except when it really matters. Like, for example, remembering her boyfriend on one of the most important days of the year. The bubbles disappear, then reappear. She’s hesitating. Good. Let her squirm a little.

Finally, the next message comes through. “Are you mad? You seem mad.”

Mad? Of course, you’re mad. How could you not be? You’d spent weeks planning to make the day special, thinking about what to say, what to do. And she couldn’t even bother to acknowledge it. You set your phone down for a second, trying to calm yourself, but it doesn’t work. The frustration keeps simmering, and before you know it, you’re typing again, ready to let her know exactly why you’re upset.