Just recently, I realized that, even after three years of cutting you from my life, I'm still not over you. I came to this realization the other day when I was informed your family would be moving here and later when apparently said that you were so excited to see me again. Oh, and let's not forget how I ranted to Her about you several times, the last of which focused on my inability to prove to you that I didn't need you and that I was better off without you. Prove to you… That certainly doesn't sound like something someone who was over you would say, does it? And that, my former friend, is why I have angrily written this lovely little letter over the course of several study halls. You probably won't ever see it unless you happen to frequent the pages of DeviantArt, but I doubt that's the case. So, I'm writing this for my own sake and hopefully getting all of this off my chest will finally let me get over you.
You were a terrible friend. That's what this all boils down to. You were the most important and influential in a long line of terrible friends. Of course, you were so self-involved that I doubt you even noticed. Heck, I didn't even notice until after three years in, but I'll get to that later. For now, I'm going to rant about you to the memory of you in my head for a change, which I'm sure she'll appreciate.
Apparently we met when our bikes collided on the hills behind the park at the end of the cull de sac one random day. That sounds like a scene out of some crappy romantic comedy, doesn't it? Honestly, I have absolutely no recollection of this even whatsoever, but you used to tell the story all the time. I used to think it was cute, that it was some sort of fate that we were supposed to be best friends. I used to look up to you, gossip with you, whisper and giggle about cute boys and crushes with you. We had sleepovers and parties and spent nearly every afternoon together. At the time, you were my "BFF", the best friend I ever had. And, of course, I thought I held the same sort of position in your life. We planned to go to college together and spend years and years to come as best friends. And really, you were. For three and a half years. Until I met Her. But here I am getting ahead of myself again.
Now, this is the part I mentioned earlier where you were a terrible friend. It took longer than I would like to admit before I started to notice all the crap you did. Looking back, it was there all along. I just didn't have any way of knowing what was going on or that real friends didn't do stuff like that.
You were so, so self-centered. Everything was about you all the time. Poor little shy Shelby was fine not being the center of attention, but when your needs and wants came before mine, it was disappointing. But, I went along with it because you were my friend and that's what friends were supposed to do. Then, there was that silly little crush I had on a mutual friend. You teased me relentlessly about it. I was so embarrassed because you made it seem stupid. Come to think of it, I never really had crushes on boys before you came around. You were Little Miss Boy Crazy, and if I didn't have a crush it was weird because obviously all little girls had crushes on little boys. Now, this next one is what really gets me. This is how I know you never really cared about me.
I wasn't good enough for you; at least, you never thought so. Do you know how I figured this out? You ditched me. Over and over again, time after time, you forgot me and left me behind. The moment someone better came along, I wasn't important anymore. I suppose I never really was important to you, was I?
Oh, and here's the kicker, the cherry on top. It was the week before I was going to move, Actually, it was the last day. I remember it vividly. Our families went out to Chili's together. You walked in with another friend of yours who had already moved but was staying with you for a couple of weeks. We sat looking out the window in a nice little row: me, you, the friend. Throughout the entire dinner, probably more than an hour of sitting next to you, I don't remember you saying more than five things to me, no more than five things to me the last time we were going to see each other. Instead, you talked to your friend the whole time. I never said goodbye to you. I refused to. And I didn't do it because I couldn't, I didn't do it because you didn't deserve it. No hugs, no emotional farewell.
I didn't hear another word from you until you texted me hours after we had already left the city. After that, there was nothing. I deleted your number from my phone. I blocked your Facebook posts from my wall. In the past three years, I've talked to you twice.
And my mother wonders why your "so excited" bothers me so much. Oh, I don't know. Perhaps it's because you've never been excited to see me. I'm nothing special to you. Don't pretend that I am.
If not for Her, I probably would have spent the rest of my life thinking that what you did was okay. It's because of Her that I realized I didn't need people like you in my life. Three and a half years after I met you, I found a real friend. I don't need you. And as much as I feel like I do sometimes, I have nothing to prove to you.
A while back I told Her all about you and the rest of the string of horrible friends. She was angry and protective because you all hurt me. And I told her that it didn't matter anymore. It happened and it's over and it made me stronger. I told her that I was almost glad that I had to put up with all that crap. And honestly, I meant it. I meant every word.
So, my dear former friend, thank you. Thank you for showing me what I didn't want in a friend and what I don't ever want to be. But now, that's all over and done with. I want you out of my life because I am done. I will not pretend I'm so excited to see you. I will not pretend to care. I am not the girl you used to know.
Good luck in your future endeavors, but please leave me out of them,