You were a horrible friend. You abused and tormented me to no end.
And yet I still hung out with you.
I was horribly lonely when I first met you. I had no one when I met you, and there you were, offering the one thing I wanted most at the time: friendship.
And then it changed. Your once sweet friendship soured, turning into abuse. I can tell countless stories of you abusing me but I'll only remind you of the two that stand out more prominently in my mind.
The first one happened at the public library. We used to walk there together, do you remember that? And one time, once we were inside, in a secluded area of the upstairs Young Adult section, I tripped over your shoe. You helped me to my feet and before I could thank you, you slapped my face.
You sneered at me right before pinching my arm. Hard. I was close to tears, but I knew you would hurt me more if I cried.
So I stammered an apology, picked a random book off the shelf, and sat down to read.
The second memory is number one on my worst memories list. It happened at your house when you decided it would be fun to torture me. Do you remember that night?
You invited me in, offered me a glass of water (which I declined) and lead me to your room. You then shut the door, tackled me to the floor and knelt on me, pinning me down.
You then started pinching my stomach. Every time I struggled against you, you pinched me even harder.
You eventually explained the rules of your sick little "game" to me:
1. If I struggled, or moved in any way, I would be pinched harder
2. If I wanted you to stop, I had to beg
3. You'd only stop if you thought I'd been punished enough
It took five minutes for me to break. I begged you to stop. You did, and moved on to my lower arm. This went on until you got bored.
For a year and a half I put up with your abuse.
For a year and a half I let you hurt me, thinking I deserved it.
No one deserves to go through your abuse, or abuse from anyone else.
You are a bad friend, and a bad person, and I'm glad you are not in my life anymore.