It’s been three weeks since we officially ended our friendship, but I still cry when I think about you. I know that’s absolutely idiotic to be so hurt over you when we were just friends. No, we weren’t just friends. We were best friends.
It’s funny to think about how things changed during the 5+ years of our friendship. You were confident in yourself, knew what you wanted, and did what you needed to get it. I walked in your shadow. I changed myself to fit your example. It’s strange to see the tables turned.
But I don’t want it to be that way. I saw that you were mad at me, I saw you distancing yourself, but I didn’t try hard enough to close that distance until you were too far away.
I saw us taking on the world together. If someone would’ve told me a year ago that we wouldn’t be friends anymore I’d laugh in their face. I’m pretty sure everyone around us would’ve too.
Two months ago I confronted you about my concerns. Your facade of apathy confirmed my suspicions. I think you knew I could see through it and find your anger at my absence. I don’t think you knew how trashy I felt at leaving you behind. I don’t think you knew how hard it was for me to be there. I stayed for you, but if I stayed a second longer I would’ve made sure my attempt wouldn’t have failed.
I hate that I had to leave you and I hate what’s happened ever since I did. Would you have preferred that I died? Wallowing in my own sadness and darkness until those things swallowed me whole. I’m sorry, but just driving by there to get to my new school triggers me everyday.
I wish you could’ve understood that. I wish you could’ve taken my confession that I was depressed seriously. I don’t blame you. How could you know? You didn’t see the crying, the emptiness, or the suicide notes because when I was with you I was all smiles.
A month and a few weeks ago, I asked if we could have an actual conversation. You didn’t respond. Didn’t even open it. That made my heart shatter and my world crash. I remember crying everyday when I looked and saw that you hadn’t even given me the time of day.
For the longest I held my tongue, telling myself “He doesn’t have to give you an explanation” or “He doesn’t have to be your friend” but goddamnit I needed an answer. An answer to make everything better. Three weeks ago I texted you: “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore but I figured you’d actually say that to me because we were friends for so long”
I saw that you responded and for a few minutes I considered not reading it. I considered blocking you on all social media and deleting every text message I ever sent to you. When I gathered the courage I did read it. You replied: “You’re right. I’m sorry I don’t want to be friends anymore”
I responded: “Okay thank you for saying something” I remember texting my friend after and ranting about how liberated I felt and about how I could finally move on with my life, but quite frankly I can’t. Three weeks later and I’m still worrying about you. Three weeks later and I’m still thinking about what could’ve happened if I didn’t leave.
Three weeks later I’m still sobbing. I never thought I’d say this, but you’re the biggest heartbreak I’ve ever had.
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