#letters (meme)

Dear ex-best friend,

If someone told me a couple years ago that I’d be writing this letter to you, I’d think they were nuts. We went together like peanut butter and jelly, like milk and cookies. We were so close and really got each other. I never would have thought that anything would happen to end our friendship. After all, we had planned out how our kids would play together someday. Surely you don’t make that kind of long-term promise to someone you plan on cutting out of your life.

But things changed. Suddenly, you didn’t have time for me anymore. Obligations got in the way, as did relationships. That’s fine, I know life happens and we were both in very turbulent periods of our lives. The way you handled it though…I didn’t deserve that. You made me feel like excess, like a placeholder until something more exciting came along. I had been there for you when you needed someone to talk to, to get things off your chest, and now that you were in a relationship, my services weren’t needed anymore? That was a shitty thing to do to someone, and it took me too long to realize that I deserved better.

I’m not claiming to be blameless. There were bits I handled poorly too. I should have had more understanding and been patient during the transitional periods. But I missed my best friend and wanted her around.

A couple years ago, I could not have imagined my life without you. Now, I wonder how we were even friends for so long. Being friends with you made me feel like I had to live up to some standard that you had set. You never explicitly said this, but every time you said you’d stop doing something sinful, I felt judged for continuing to do the same. I worried that I’d never be good enough for you, and I guess my worries ended up validated.

Deciding to walk away from you wasn’t the hard part, though. The hard part was the months of radio silence, where we’d talk sporadically and vacillate from our old closeness to awkward politeness and finally blow up fights. It was the months I spent grieving a truly remarkable friendship that I’d lost, and feeling like you did not give a single fuck. Walking away was easy.

You want to know the sick part? There is still a part of me that wishes I could go to you when something good happens to me. That wishes you could see where I am now and how far I’ve come. I left you when I was on the cusp of breaking through. So here’s a little update on the last year and a half of my life. I got several jobs. Passed my driver’s license test. Got admitted to graduate school. Am currently in the second year of graduate school. Worked as a teaching assistant the entire time and fell in love with teaching all over again. Made new friends (turns out you can be incredibly busy and still pencil people in if you care!). Learned how to advocate for myself and speak up when I’m being treated poorly. Found a therapist who is actually competent and willing to work with me in a way that I can do. And oh, I realized that I’m bisexual. I really do have to thank you for that. If you hadn’t left my life, I might have spent another several years in denial because that’s unChristian. But I no longer care what you think of that. I answer only to God for my actions. Let people think what they may.

This letter verges more bitter than sweet, so let me assure you, I’m not angry. I haven’t been angry at you in a very long time. I wish you all the best in life, and hope that you find what you’re looking for. But thank you for being a poor enough friend to make me leave. If I hadn’t, I probably would have stiffed myself a great deal of hard-earned personal growth.

Dear Ex Best Friend,

I’m not mad that you worked with Mephisto to try to get Spidey to turn evil.  I’m mad that you chose Patient Zero as your fake name.  That’s stupid as hell.  Fuck you, Weasel.

See you at Christmas.

Love,