DATE: 09/09/2022
You asked me to keep distance. Said you'd need space. I knew you were going through rough times, so I respected that. We didn't talk for days... maybe weeks? When school started you avoided me in class. Didn't even look at me or said "hi". You felt like a stranger. A stranger I had shared many secrets with. A stranger I considered one of my best friends. And I knew I was the only one you had. Because I was the only one who stayed when your depression started. But now you needed to be alone.
What I found funny is that one day I suddenly received a message from you. It was no "I'm sorry" or "can we start talking again?". You just wanted to know if we had math homework. Is that how this goes now? We don't talk, act like the past three years never happened, but when you need something from me, I'm supposed to be available for you? I mean, I'm used to be treated like a God. People only remember me when they need me, but I didn't expect that from you. I thought after all I had gone through by your side, you'd be different. But maybe I'm just stupid for hoping someone could really care about me. I probably cared about you more than you deserved... Did we just were friends because you had no other?
My conclusion now is "yes". Do you think I didn't notice? You started talking a lot with that new girl. I like her too, she's very kind. I understand you're friends, or at least often talk. And I have absolutely no problem with that. The opposite, I'm glad to see others noticed you and treat you good. But it still hurts. It hurts that you lied. You didn't need distance, right? Just distance from me.
But what most hurt, was that moment you asked me if I had her number to chat with her. Yea, that felt like a dagger in my heart. Did you even realise how cruel that was? You wanted me to stop texting you, but then you break our silence just to leave again and text someone else. I don't feel replaced... just betrayed.
YOU ARE READING
A Writer's Notebook / Collection of Short Stories
Short Story🇪🇸 A veces todo lo que queremos es escapar de la realidad. O quizás queremos darle un sentido. En este cuaderno guardo mis relatos que me permiten (o intentan) reflejar todo aquello que pienso y siento en mi interior y quiero compartir con el mun...