LETTERS.

to my ex-best friend

We met when we were 7. Well, I can't exactly remember now how old we were. But we were young weren't we? So, for now, we were 7. That's 6 years. 6 years. Do you want to let that sink in? That's 2190 days, more or less.

Our moms met at this home-schooling event that your mom was hosting at your place. I don't know where I was that day, or if I was even supposed to come, but I wasn't there. Apparently, our moms got talking and both realised that they both had 7 year old daughters, and decided that we would meet. Great idea, they thought.

You came with your Mom and your friend to my parent's restaurant. Oh, I remember that day super clearly. I had brought this sort of game where we could dress up these cardboard dolls with stickers, thinking that it was only the two of us, but to be turned out wrong. Because you brought a friend, in case I bored your majesty. Did I say anything? Hell no. I was only 7, I didn't care at all. We started talking eventually, and we both bonded over our love for the plain tortilla wraps we were eating.

And we hung out most every day, didn't we? Living close to each other helped. But we were very different people. You had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, with messy blonde hair. Your skin was pale, your face had slight freckles everywhere. Your teeth were slightly crooked, but hell, we were 7, we didn't care. Not like now.

I on the other hand, have almost black eyes, with wavy/curly brown hair. My skin is tan, and my two front teeth are slightly longer than the rest. My eyes are weak, so I wear glasses or contact lenses. But your eyes are strong, and they burn right through those you do not like.

Our looks were different, yes. But that didn't change anything. Like I said, we were and are very different people. I was always a hugger, and I would comfort you when you were sad. You didn't like hugging me, and you never liked what I had to say. You took after your carefree mother, and your strongly opinionated and cynical father. I was never good enough for you, and you were always too good for me. You liked putting me down, like it was some sort of game – and I accepted for 6 years.

We were very similar people. Especially now, at least that's what I thought. I haven't changed much, apart from my boobs becoming much bigger, and growing a few curves here and there. I was always too skinny though, that's what you said. You haven't changed one bit either. Apart from your body, that is. Your attitude hasn't changed, that's for sure. But we both shared a love for similar music, and similar people, and we both self-harmed at one point (not something I was proud of, but you were very proud of).

It was what, 2 months ago now? When you came back and visited me all on your own. It was fun, I thought. It was only the last day of your visit that we had a huge fight. We always fought after being around each other for more than 3 days, but this, this was 8 days, a world record.

And so we said goodbye, but I never thought it would be the last time we would see each other. At least, while we were still friends.

And how did it end? Through Skype. We were messaging each other, and I don't know how it happened but you told me about your new twitter account. "Why don't you check it out" You said, and sent me the link.

Oh, and what do I find? I find you tweeting about how you've starting self-harming again – because your boyfriend of 4 months cheated on you. What a bunch of bullshit. Did you want the attention? Because you got it. Countless amount of people tweeting you "It'll be okay babe, if I'm 2 weeks clean, you can do it too."

Was it funny? Because that's what you told me. That it was some big, fat, joke. And everyone was in on it. Yeah right. I told you to cut the crap and have some sense of shame. You knew about my scars, because you were the only one I told. So did you really think that I was overreacting? Really?

You said we were never Best Friends anyways, and that we would never need to talk to each other again. Fine, I said. Because it was. Was I sad? Surprisingly, not. I deserve better than this, right? Was I hurt with those words? Yes, but then again, after knowing you for 6 years, I was used to it.  And was I happy that we were done? Yes. Yes I am.

So I hope you have a nice life, I really do. Because I'm sure that those 'internet friends' you've known for only a few weeks, or months care about you more than your friend who's loved you since the day we crowned ourselves "Best Friends".