Dear “best friend,”
We met in high school. I was in tenth, you were in ninth. I had never met anyone with whom I shared so many things with. We had so much in common and you blew me away. You were sweet and you were kind. You showed me love and grace. You loved me through my weirdness, and I loved you through yours.
The years we spent as friends in high school I will never forget. You taught me how to be a girl because you said tom boy was old school. You showed me how to do my hair and wear cute outfits. You taught me how to use a tampon and how to talk about my feelings. I grew up with three brothers and you were the sister I had always longed for. So thank you for those days. Thank you for the shopping trips and the sleep overs. Thank you for cuddling up for a movie and board game nights. Thank you for being with me for my first boyfriend and my first breakup. Thank you for all the times we spent doing nothing, but ‘nothing’ didn’t matter because anything with you seemed fun.
We had three sweet years of high school and then you followed me to college… And now I honestly wish you hadn’t. Because that’s where it all changed.
I was in college a year before you and made friends before you came. I was thrilled that we were going to go to school together for another three years because I couldn’t bear the thought of not being with you. I immediately invited you into my friend group of 5 or 6 other girls. You quickly inherited my friends and even began making friends of your own. You lived in Hutch Hall and I lived in Walker Hall- a small walk up a hill away.
It didn’t take long for me to discover what was beginning to happen. You started hanging out with the friends you had made in your dorm. You were always in Hutch Hall, “doing homework,” or “making cookies,” or “watching a movie.” You didn’t once invite me.
You began to hang out with both sets of friends- yours and mine. I was somewhere in the mix of time you spent with everybody else. I came to the thought-out conclusion that it was a percentage system. You hung out with each of your friends an equal amount of time, spreading your time between us very thin.
I am content in my life with having very few friends but very close friends, as opposed to you, who maintains many friends but not very many are close. As you grew tighter with your other friends I drew further and further apart from you. In that time I lost from you, you never got back.
The year passed by and your second year of college, my third, came about. You began hanging out with even more people. You met some freshmen guys and you met some freshmen girls. All of them were too immature for me, dabbing in high school drama that I didn’t want to be a part of. The percentage rule held to be true and I am still not getting enough of your time to consider you my best friend.
I stayed loyal to you. Even when I was in college and you were still in high school. I invited you to my dorm and attended every single one of your high school volleyball games. We are now both in college and I have remained loyal and caring, and I give you more than you give me. I used to bring you coffee and snacks when you were studying. I brought you coffee on your late shifts at work…
I do so many things for you that you don’t see. And you don’t do so many things for me, and that in itself speaks volumes.
You forgot that my mom had cancer, and you never once asked me how she was.
You are selfish for more reasons than I care to list.
You call me your best friend, but I can no longer call you mine. You hurt me too often and apologize to little. I have forgiven too much and wasted a lot on a person who does not return an ounce of loyalty.
You put others before me, you blow me off, you won’t sacrifice anything for me. And I can’t take any more of that. So, “best friend,” we are done.
I wish I had the courage to walk away from you for good. But tomorrow you will “apologize,” and I will forgive you. And I will rewrite this letter on a blog that you do not know exists again tomorrow.
-Your best friend