Suspended from strings by the age of nine, I remember it all. I remember being trapped. The nine-year-old master who seemed so nice- Little did I know, my soul would break.

So often, you pulled on my strings; each string containing an insecurity. It seemed to be a game.

I still remember the first of the painful yanks. At the age of ten- the time where trying to fit in with the crowd is essential. But you and Lauren decided to play a game- it was a surely painful game.

"Let's play like we're the popular girls and you're the nerd." You suggested. Lauren agreed. I agreed. How was I to know you would take it so far? That entire week of summer camp, my two best friends iced me out. You definitely played the role. But the role grew on you too.

Middle school came along. I was in the sixth grade, and you in the seventh. You made new friends. Did you really think I believed you when you claimed to have nothing to do with it? This yank hurt worse. Olivia sent me all of those cruel voicemails- you said she stole your phone. How naive do you really think I was? Obviously she didn't know me- or have my number. Was I really such an easy target? Why me? And even though I knew your fingerprints were all over it, I forgave you!

Had you not hurt me enough? Was it really necessary to take that picture? I know what you're going to say... 'I only sent it to Chase and Cole.' But how do I know? You could have saved it, screenshot it, or sent it to more people! And besides that, you had ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT to take it! Another yank at my strings of insecurity. Was it not enough?

Obviously not- you had to talk about me behind my back. It seemed like a continuous cycle. Or like Ian called it 'the gossip circle.'

And isn't a best friend a place you can cry, rant, and talk? For me it used to be. We both met halfway. I would tell me my problems while you listened and vice versa. But one day you didn't meet halfway so I had to walk the entire way. I thought maybe it was a one-time thing. I told you my problems, but you interrupted and told me yours. My problems were nothing. They weren't worth your time. Eventually I realized you weren't going to meet me halfway. So I stopped coming. I cut away that string. Baby steps, right?

But you changed. You became someone else. An attention seeker. A partier. I tried to refuse the drinks at first. But you told me that if I didn't I was a 'p***y.' And it seemed that you always wanted to use my patents liquor. I guess if my parents liquor was there I was too, right? When I told you addiction ran in my family, you said I was being stupid.

Then being in public with you became a nightmare. You seemed to say things to look cool. "I got arrested." "I punched a girl." "Me and (insert male name) were (insert sexual activity)." And I was sick of the humiliation.

Every time I was with you, you had no interest in anything I had to tell you. I was excited to tell you about my amazing new school and you told me to SHUT UP! When my niece was born, and as I was watching her grow, I was elated to share the cute thing she did and I couldn't talk to you about that. But you know the worst one- when my grandma died you said "she's dead- get over it!"

I thought you were my friend. Turns out I was wrong- you were simply my marionette master. But not anymore! I cut myself free from all of the strings.