Was it something I did or something I should have done, but didn’t? Something I said, or a detail I forgot to mention? Is it the look on my face, the cut of my hair, my freckles? I just want to know what you find so distasteful about me.
In the early days we got on fine. I wrote my poems while you worked beyond my vision, sometimes a little distant, but often friendly and always efficient.
I knew something was wrong three months ago when you began spamming my messages.
Had you even read them? I don’t think so.
It took weeks for you to read that begging email from me, and your reply was falsely encouraging. You told me everything was ok, but to get back to you if I was unhappy – I was unhappy, because I found nothing had changed, so I emailed you again, and in spite of your promise, you ignored me. Now you are blocking the email reminders from my friends’ posts. I have to use a circuitous route to find out what they’re up to, and I’ve learned that you’re doing similar things to some of them too.
WordPress, what have we done to make you hate us so?
©Jane Paterson Basil