Fuck.
I fucked up.
I've always had a fear of not fitting in, of being left behind. This time it manifested when I started listening to everything people had to say about you and not to you. I mean, I knew you got around. You didn't hide it, you still don't. You have an air of nonchalance, a permanent "and what are you gonna do about it?" written in neon on your forehead like the fluorescent sign of a low budget Chinese restaurant. You are the poster girl for being unapologetic. I think that's why we were such good friends. You didn't give a shit, and I gave too many.
My giving a shit manifested in jumping on the bandwagon of hate against you. Did you deserve it? No. But did I still help sling insult upon insult on your name?
Why do you think I'm writing this?
"She's a slut!"
"She gets mad too often"
"Everything she does is out of pocket"
Some of it held weight, but not to the extent I agreed to. Every fault they brought to the table, I admitted and reinforced.
You didn't do everything right though. I have to give myself that. You could be a temperamental, loud, confrontational, and impulsive. You knew full well how sensitive I was and how hurt little things made me, and you acted as if you didn't care. Looking back at it, I think that was you training me to care a little less. A way of lending some of your attitude to me.
Our friends didn't take well to that, however. This specific conglomeration of people is very all or nothing They're all sweethearts in their own respects, but they have this 'if my friend doesn't like you I don't like you' philosophy. This coupled with their penchant for making jokes and making fun made a nasty combo. I could tell you were going through something. The way you expressed it was just by being a little brasher, a little meaner. A transitional period of sorts. Sometimes you do have to get worse before you get better. But the better came long after that fight. We were at a party. We were drunk. I don't even remember what we said.
I remember what happened after though. "I'm never talking to her again!", you shouted at our mutual friends. You got in your car and you left.
Block, block, shady post, block, block, call out post. Like a game of virtual chess, but the moves were on Instagram and the pieces at stake were our friends.
After that, I became apathetic. Rude. Everyone was on "my side" but I still felt something was wrong. I won, so why did I feel bad? That was my moral compass trying to snap me back into place, but I ignored it. Moreover, I ignored you every chance I had. I was temperamental, confrontational, and impulsive.
All the faults I had given you passed onto me. I became what I alleged I hated.
Two months of this passed, and I remember how you told me you had forgiven me.
You were sitting with a mutual friend and as I was waving goodbye to him, you turned to me and said, "Hey! I was looking at my Snapchat memories! Good times..."
"Yeah...", I responded, not sure what else to say.
"Yeah, I miss that. What happened was so..."
Suddenly, I composed myself. I knew exactly what I thought of this whole situation.
"Stupid", we blurted out at the same time. We smiled and looked at each other, like little kids that had fought over barbies. Well, to be honest, the argument did hold about as much weight.
In the end, I'm kind of glad we went through this experience. You ended up lending me some of your "take no crap" attitude, because I know I'll never let this happen to me again.
Love, a dumb bitch
