Dear Friend,

We’re friends right? You’ve told this to me countless times and how I mean so much to you. Yet your words dissolve to shit in light of your actions.
Has another person’s feelings ever crossed your mind or has it always been a facade to get people to like you? Is it because you’re afraid of leaving the world without making an impact on it? Either way it’s clear that the way you claim to care about me is false.
It started with revealing our secrets to each other.
You told me you have a bad relationship with your father after I told you mine was absent from my life.
You then said I was lucky compared to her.
Lucky?
Because my father is/was a psychopath who poked holes in the condom and threatened my mother to have children with him and he would find her if she did?
Lucky?
While your father says snide comments as he hands you everything you want and more. As he and your mother pay for your college tuition as I make thousand dollar loans since my single mother with two jobs can barely support herself.
You have a strange interpretation of “luck”.
Then I revealed I was abused for half my life and lost the will to live because of it. That, for a while, life and death were mere sides of a coin.
You said you could understand.
“Understand?” I asked. And you said your father abuses you sometimes.
I know her father. I know the routine of an abusive person. Both from experience and research when I wanted to understand.
Your father is an asshole.
Not a monster.
You called me crying saying you were afraid. I deciphered your words through your tears and you later explained it to me.
He kicked over a trashcan.
That’s abuse to you?
Has he ever hit you? Told you you were nothing? Worse than garbage? That you should have been aborted because you poison the Earth?
Did he threaten to kill you?
I don’t think so.
It became a competition to you. You would “suddenly remember” horrible things your father did to you.
You don’t forget things like that and recall them suddenly.
It continued with you trying to convert me to God.
I told you I respected your beliefs if you would respect mine. I told you that my experiences showed to me personally that there is no God but my opinion is not believed by everyone and I respect that.
But you had to say that I needed to be saved and that God helped me through my “dark times”.
I’m sorry but were you there?
No.
Do you know how I felt and how I got to the place I am now?
No.
You assumed Jesus helped me.
You don’t know pain and suffering and how I coped with it and how I finally raised above it.
And now, we end it with the guy I have a crush on. I told you he made me feel special, something I don’t feel very often. I told you he makes me smile and forget about my troubles.
So what did you do?
You began hanging around him and began flirting with him.
And you pulled the “I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing” card.
I accepted it because he isn’t obligated to me nor am I to him.
Yet it continued.
And now, you talk to each other nonstop and after our friend sent a prank text to him at the party asking to meet you outside, he responded with
“Front yard or backyard?”
The only person, out of many, who responded like that.
And his face lit up with the text.
So now I sit here with my inactive phone hoping that maybe I’ll cross his mind once as you toy with him.
But I think the funniest thing is, I’m not mad at you.
I feel sorry for you.
That you desire attention this much. That you have to make-out with every guy at parties and get defensive when people call you a whore. I’m sorry that the one guy I have feelings for is the one you go after because he isn’t drooling over you.
But most of all, I feel sorry that you don’t realize people invite you to social events for your body and not your personality.
So even though I’m in my house typing this lengthy letter of my hurt with no guy to run to and no guy to run after me, I’m still surrounded by love and will die knowing I made a positive impact on this world despite the toxic words my aunt’s ex husband spat at me.
And you will be the one who dies alone.