The Letter I'll Never Send

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How can you not feel anything,
not be affected,
not regret everything you said,
when I'm sitting here
and crying,
tears streaming down
my face and
eyes red from rubbing
them too hard,
feeling like my heart's been
ripped
out?

Did I mean nothing to you?

Was everything that
I'd been holding onto for so long
so fake
that you didn't even
care about it?
Is our friendship so weak,
so fickle and
meaningless and
unimportant
that you can go from hugging
me tightly in the halls
one minute
to pretending that I don't
exist
the next?

And why will you talk to everyone but me?

Shouldn't I be able
to know why my
own best friend
is being this pretentious b****?
What did I do wrong?
Is it fair that I haven't
told my
side of the story
to anyone who is friends with you,
but you, who
wormed your way
into my group,
into my world,
get to talk freely?
What is it that you are telling them
that is making some
stay clear of me?

How is it that I can miss you so much, and you miss me so little?

Do you have some on/off switch
that lets you
turn off your feelings,
because I sure should be
hating
you right now but
all I can think about
is that time we laughed for a half hour straight and got kicked out of the library,
or how we promised each other that one night we'd always be friends?
It was supposed to be
you and I,
me and you,
one strong, stable force against the world.

So, though I'll never send it,
this letter is my goodbye
to you,
my final attempt at closure.
This is farewell, my (ex) friend,
for forever

I guess.





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