• I don’t miss you.

    by  • September 16, 2010 • Friends, Gratitude, Letting Go, Lost Love, To You • 2 Comments

    I have to be honest, I don’t miss you. I haven’t missed you once since you left East Lansing that one Sunday in January, the lies locked behind your lips. Sure, I’ve been reminded of you, seeing pictures of us from 8th grade in my room and being in touch constantly because of the newsfeed on Facebook. But I never got the feeling that I got two summers ago when you were in Pennsylvania, or even when we didn’t see each other for a few months freshman year. Times have changed, though, if that isn’t obvious already.

    I’m typing this because I need to tell you that I’m over it. I’m not mad about what you did in Ann Arbor anymore because I don’t hold grudges. It’s not something I do or want to start doing. Yes, you severely hurt me, and although it wasn’t the first time, it was absolutely the last. I was upset that you didn’t regret it, or that you didn’t feel too badly about it, and I never appreciated being lied to, but, it’s in the past. You made a horrible decision and should have been prepared for the consequences, aka the end of our friendship. You may be wondering why we aren’t friends today if I’m not mad anymore. And that’s because, as I said, I don’t miss you.

    To the outside world, we were best friends. We went to high school, you came to Northern, we turned sixteen, we drove to South Haven, we had dance parties, we went to work camp together, all normal best friend stuff. But, back then, I didn’t stand up for myself. When you would bat me around and take advantage of my kindness, I looked the other way and told myself it would get better. When you told the world of your love for boys that I obviously had a crush on, I cried myself to sleep and pretended you didn’t know (even though I know you knew). When you somehow convinced me T was not worth anyone’s time, I believed you even though he was always a better friend to me (and still holds up that promise to this day). There were good days between you and I, when you made me realize how much I was worth and made me have confidence. But those were few between the days I wanted so much to stop being your friend, or yell at you, or for once in my life put my foot down against something you did. Every day others would notice my pain, and ask me why I dealt with it. And you want to know what I said? I stood up for you. I told them it was my fault, whatever had happened, and took on all the guilt and anger that was meant for you. Looking back, I can’t believe I did that.

    Going to school taught me so much. E and V showed me true friendship. Both M’s held me together and showed me what it meant to actually care for someone. Since no one knew me, I started over. I didn’t let anyone step all over me, I didn’t let myself become what I was to you. And I was surprised to find people still liked me. People still wanted to be my friend. And these friends will be my friends forever. Let me tell you one thing though, we will never be friends like that again. If we ever even start toward that road again, I will be the one to initiate it, not you. Of course, we still have M as a mutual acquaintance. But I swear to you, if you ever hurt her like you hurt me, I will come after you if she doesn’t. And that is a threat.

    I guess this is the part where I thank you. Thanks for treating me like shit so I could really appreciate a true friendship. Thanks for teaching me not to trust as easily because now people have to show me they deserve it. Thanks for showing me how to not act around boys so they don’t think I’m a slut. Thanks for ruining any romantic chance I had with all those past boys, because they all sucked anyways. But, above all, thanks for using rubber cement on that collage poster you made me. It enables the pictures to come off very easily.

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    2 Responses to I don’t miss you.

    1. icare
      September 16, 2010 at 5:35 pm

      SO PROUD OF YOU!!




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    2. mel
      September 17, 2010 at 9:28 am

      i love you with all my heart. i hope she reads this.




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