Dear friend who never was,
I give you the gift of absence. This, what we pretend is a friendship, is an awkward imposition in your life. Why did I take so long to understand?
Taking pleasure in company, sharing interest, spending time, a meal or just talking, none of it matters. For that, you seek out other people. So do I when I tire of seeking you out. We are something you revisit when you have nothing else to do, nobody else watching you. We are something you revisit when you are alone and horny in a distant hotel room, away from your real life.
Once upon a time you said you will not be happy with me. We had stopped being together without me realizing that we were never actually together. And yet, you persist in being somewhere on the periphery, refusing to let go. I thought that could be a friendship. Why did I think so?
This does not make me happy. You do not make me happy. This deliberate manipulation does not make me happy.
Let us kill this pretense and go back to our lives.
Let us get what we deserve.
Yours in celebration of this freedom…