In my observation, you really do exist.
Or are you Mr. Hyde today?
I never know.
I’ve written this letter a million times in my head. I was angry. I was sad. I was lonely. I was elated to talk to you again. And then it started over. My words have circulated so many times in my mind that I couldn’t find a beginning or an end.
After your recent conversation, the end was finally achieved. And with that, I gratefully saw the beginning, too. Gratefully because the beginning was so beautiful.
I have so many things to say to you. Among the most important, I’d like to express my anger. Beyond anything, I’m angry with you that you have spent months teaching me how to talk about my feelings — how to discuss things on my mind — how to be okay with not being okay, and addressing that with the people that need to hear it from me. You taught me that I matter. You told me that I’m worth being heard. You helped me to understand that my words and feelings matter.
So, yes, it hurts me more than anything in the world that you refuse to hear me speak.
I asked you to talk to me. I asked you to call. I asked you, if I wrote you an email, would you read it or delete it.
I was sick.
You made me sick.
Not in the way that it may at first sound. I was literally sick. Between tears that I couldn’t control, I got so sick that I couldn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t leave my house.
And you were responsible for it.
Your perception of my love for you is skewed, and for that, I am truly sorry. I am not sorry for the way I love you; rather, I am sorry that this is a foreign thing to you. My friends love me. They love me from the earth to the clouds, and I love them the same. You will never understand my love. It has nothing to do with looks or chemistry. It simply has to do with you. You’re a beautiful person, and as my friend, it was my job to love you. It was my duty, and I take that duty seriously. To be honest, even with my significant lack of self-esteem, I can look myself dead in the eyes in the mirror when I think about the value of my friendship to the people that I hold dear.
What I want for you is happiness and peace. You’re beautiful. Despite your shadows and dark clouds, you’re beautiful. I hope you find someone that is ready to drop their life on a dime to come to you to make sure you’re okay when you’re hurting. I hope you find someone that you can share your secrets with, even though you’re scared. I hope you learn what love is in terms of friendship, regardless of what other love that life may bring. I hope you understand one day that my friendship is invaluable — that I loved you (and always will) as my best friend and nothing more.
I also hope that one day, if you’re afforded a friendship as beautiful as ours, that you’re willing to let go. You gave me so much of you. Our conversations were beautiful. Our friendship was beautiful. I’m hurt. I’m confused. And I’m angry. Beyond anything else, I’m upset that you don’t care.
Why don’t you care??
I’d like you to know that you gave me the most perfect insult ever. After I laid my soul on the line and begged you to talk to me as adults, you informed me that I am the most self-involved thoughtful person that you’ve ever come across — that I’m thoughtful with expectations. I want to thank you for that. You are absolutely correct. I AM the most thoughtful person you will ever come across, and I do have one expectation: that the people to whom I devote my heart will be my friends in the end. In the grand scheme of things, asking for a shoulder to cry on every once in a while or needing a soothing voice to calm me down every few months is well worth the weight in gold that I put into my friendships. I’ve thought about this statement a lot. In all honesty, I can’t imagine a more beautiful condemnation. If you’re looking for an apology, here it is: I’m sorry that I am the most thoughtful person you’ve ever met, and I’m sorry that the only thing that I ask in return is to be treated a fraction as well as I treat you. My friendship is quite a gift. And I feel so blessed to be given the gift of giving. I love me for that. My friends do, too.
As a human being, I deserved to know what I did and why you’re angry. As your friend, I deserved resolution and communication. As someone that loved you more than I’ve loved anyone for a long time, just as friends, I deserved better than all of this.
Please remember, this began when I dropped everything to come to you to make sure you were okay when you were hurting so, so badly.
You denied me.
You inflicted far more hurt upon me than you could possibly imagine.
And for that, I thank you for reminding me that all good things must come to an end.
I have begged you to talk to me. I have been on hands and knees asking for kindness… communication… best friendship.
You know I love you when I tell you this: I will always be here for you. If you need me, let me know. I don’t remove people that I love and am grateful for. I treasure them. And just because you’ve chosen to walk away, it doesn’t mean that I won’t be here for you when you need me.
Whether it’s ten days or ten years, I hold the answers to a lot of the questions that others can’t answer.
I appreciate what you’ve given me. The friendship and the incredible pain — they both make me me. And my friends love me for me. I do, too. I guess I just needed reminded about how invaluable my friendship is. I’m not disposable. I’m invaluable. Not to be mistaken with unvaluable.
All the love in the world,
Your (Former) Best Friend