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When I lifted your title of “Best Friend” I was content.
had accommodated you heartlessness
and stomached your unnecessary criticism for far too long.
My anger perched like a demon on my shoulder,
whispering in my ear with a devilish allure.
I tried to conceal how angry you made me
and ensconce how much hate I had boiling inside me.
How our friendship had spoiled like milk carelessly left in the sun.
Neglected. Uncared for.
When you were dismayed, I was less than concerned. And,
I secretly relished being the one who troubled you,
I secretly loved giving you a watered down spoonful of what I had to choke down
I secretly loved hating you.
And that night when you spoke about me behind my back
I was livid beyond imagination.
Our “friendship” was like a tumor turned cancerous
and it was slowly sucking the life out of me.
Living around you turned me into a person
I didn’t know, a person I didn’t like.
Living around you made me bitter and angry and spiteful.
I tried to be honest with you, but you shrugged it off
like you do everything that’s important to me.
I’m done wasting time searching for a reason not to
pluck you from my life and save myself the anguish.
Done trying to decipher why you treat people the way you do.
I secretly wait for the day when our two paths no longer occupy the same trail.
I secretly wait for the day when we stop pretending to be something we’re not.
I secretly wait for the day when I am freed from the shackles of our “friendship”.