They made so many mistakes and I forgave them over and over again. They, after all, were human and of course they're not perfect and I acknowledged it. They needed second chances, many of them, and I gave it to them regardless of what they'd done, not letting them know that I'd been hurt, trying not to screw up the friendship.
I guess I wasn't appreciated in the same way. I was seen as an imperfect but somehow perfect being to them - imperfect because of the qualities I'd lacked and perfect because I'd made sure not to hurt them in any way - until I made a tiny mistake. A mistake that somehow that destroyed what we had in seconds, leaving me falling on to the floor wondering why I'd been so kind to someone who couldn't risk giving me one chance.
