I was thinking about what happened for the past few months.
After I ended our friendship (or whatever's left of it), your last words towards me made me wonder.
You said, and I quote, "It's a bit shocking how much you think I mean to you."
That hurt. Like hell.
I mean, I understand what our friendship meant to you. It was nothing. I was merely someone that was there for awhile and I made a mistake, one that's enough for you to forget everything and lose me without thinking twice. And I don't mind.
But at least have the courtesy to act like it meant something to you until the last time.
It took me awhile to articulate all of this in my mind. Because I was always there to support you whenever you would tell me that you wanted to experience love and relationships in that sense. And I would reassure you that you'd finally meet that guy. That damn guy who'd make you the happiest and luckiest woman in the world. I'd always believe that, and I'll make sure you'd believe that as well.
So I shouldn't be surprised when you'd sacrifice our friendship for it.
You did, and I am not mad.
Not anymore.
But did you have to say it like that? Is it that shocking that you mean so much to me that I'd die for you? I thought I made it clear.
It's such an annoying world, you know? The more you try to convince people that they matter, the more insecure they'd feel and they'd push themselves away because of that. It's stupid. But I guess I should not be surprised.
I guess something that I've learned from everything that has happened is that life is never about the struggle between black or white. It's about trying to live by the shades that fate has reflected upon ourselves.
People come and go, right? That's the common belief. But sometimes that's not the case. Sometimes people come, and sometimes they go. Other times they don't the guts to leave you and you have to do that because there's nothing left to stay for anyway.
