Expresso » [RANTS]

"write something to someone you'll never show them"

so i wrote this a few months back but i'm publishing it here so i can find it in the future.

"You were my best friend for so long that I almost forgot a time before you. It's hard to not remember a time when you weren't there - I was twelve when we first met, after all, and those twelve years before you seemed so minuscule and small compared to the time spent with you. You thought you were so cool - doing everything you could to seem like you were different and special and amazing. You'd move when I spoke to you so I had to follow if I wanted to keep up the conversation. You'd compare me to your best friend and lie to me about the things she'd do so I'd do them to feel like I was your friend. If I got excited about something, you'd find a way to shut me down and come back with something even more exciting of your own, and I'd laugh and smile because why wouldn't I? You'd tell me all about your best friend, acting like you couldn't possibly have more than one, and I'd do almost anything to try and change your mind. I'd act like I hated my younger sister because you hated yours and it probably hurt her feelings, but I didn't care, because you didn't. You'd talk about all the guys you had crushes on and I'd smile even though it made me uncomfortable to talk about them, to the point I'd lie about finding guys attractive or having crushes on them because it made me feel better. I'd buy you drinks and ice cream because you didn't have the money, thinking that's what friends did, because it made you happier.

Your parents told you to stop reading Harry Potter and Percy Jackson and all those books we'd loved. We didn't mind - we could always talk about other things. But you'd keep bringing them up even though you knew you weren't supposed to, and then turn around and tell your mom that me and my sister had started it. Your parents took away everything you were 'obsessed' with, and you'd be told not to talk about those things, but it didn't stop you. When your mother told you not to talk to me - to us - anymore because we were a bad influence (because we had our own computers because we played video games because we watched pretty much anything we wanted because because because), when my sister lost her best friend because of your parents, neither of you told us the truth. You didn't tell us that you were sorry. You didn't tell us that you wished it was different. You could've - I would've. When we felt unwelcome at church because of you, when I dreaded every Sunday and Wednesday more than anything, when I lied about being sick so I maybe wouldn't have to go... it didn't matter. It just hurt.

We stopped attending church. I stopped spending time with you and your sister. I was depressed and angry and lashed out at my only remaining friend, my sister. I lashed out at everyone (which is funny because that's how I met one of my best friends and she's like a sister to me.) I stopped reading my Bible because it was a disgusting reminder. I stopped caring if I was alive to the point that had I died, I wouldn't have cared. I was in so much pain and you didn't know, and you probably didn't care - you still had friends, you still had a church to go to, you still had everything. I held a grudge, letting it fester inside of me, letting it tear me apart. Your parents changed their minds and let you read those books and watch those shows again. It didn't matter, though, because the damage was done and I never wanted to speak to you again except to let you know how much you'd hurt me.

We still haven't attended church regularly and it's been two years. I still haven't made friends outside of the Internet and it's been two years. When I told my mother about how you treated me before that, she told me that none of that was friendship, and I broke down, and it hurt worse than anything else. Now, every time I see you, it hurts - because we go to the same co-op and my sister is friends with you now. Every single time I see you, my chest closes up and it gets harder to breathe and I feel like I'm going to cry, and it's been two years, almost three, and I still haven't forgiven you for breaking my heart (because that's the only feeling I can equate this to.)

Or maybe I haven't forgiven myself."