An Open Letter to my Ex-Best Friend

Subject: An Open Letter to my Ex-Best Friend
Date: 13 Oct 2018

Dear Ex-Best Friend,

I often find myself reminiscing on the “good ole days.” It hits hard while scrolling through Instagram and I see a picture you posted, or when your mom posts something on Facebook about you. That is when I get the all too familiar urge to text or call you only to come to the all too familiar realization that you don’t want to hear from me. You’re doing just fine without me in your life, and in a sense I’m glad. Conversely, I am equally as upset.

In middle school, when we met, everything seemed great. We talked nearly every day, hung out often and were “attached at the hip.” I can even remember hearing once that “if you saw one, you saw the other.” I even remember on your fourteenth birthday when my mom wouldn’t let me come to your party and you were visually upset for days. We were best friends… until I worked up the courage to come-out to you. That was our downfall. We were only in middle school, so it was rough for me to come-out to anyone. After I told you, you immediately renounced me as your friend. Little do you know, that lead to a huge downfall in my life; full of insecurities, fear, low self-esteem, depression, suicidal thoughts, and trying to reidentify and “be normal.” To this day, I haven’t officially come-out for fear that everyone who interacts with me will stop. To this day, I can’t trust people the same, because the one person I trusted left me abandoned when I was the most vulnerable.

Thankfully, a few years later you agreed to meet with me and reconcile. Although, I can honestly say that I believe the only reason you agreed after multiple attempts in vain was because I bought your family a meal while I was working at a restaurant they came into. However, I took what I could get. This lead to months of working our way back to where we were at one time. I was coming over regularly again, we were doing things publicly again, we were talking almost every day again, I felt rejuvenated that maybe after the admittedly most difficult years of my life I had finally gotten back to having you be my best friend. Little to my knowledge, things had changed drastically in those couple of years. You became an entirely different person. You had a new group of friends, even a new best friend who had replaced me. You only saw me as a casual acquaintance, barely even a friend. From that point forward I moved on day-after-day walking on eggshells, fearing that the smallest mess up would wreck our “friendship” again. I spent every day lying in bed hoping that you would ask to hangout or do anything at all. For a while I would ask, and we would, but after a while you stopped saying yes. You always had other plans. You always had someone else to do something with and when you didn’t, you wanted to spend that day alone. I again begin to feel like an outsider. Fearing every day that you would finally just get tired of me and leave me in the dust like you did years prior. This again led to severe depression, suicidal thoughts, and constant anxiety.

I started really noticing the downfall in December of 2017. We weren’t hanging out as much, and when we were I always seemed to just make you angry. On your birthday, I just so happened to be at your house because my power was out, and your parents let me stay the night. You came home and didn’t invite me to your room like you always had, you barely even spoke to me. So, the next morning, on your birthday, I texted you from the couch to see if you wanted to go do anything. You said no because the roads were bad, which was understandable in my mind. Just mere hours later, you left to go see a movie with a group of your actual friends. I was upset but didn’t let it show. Your mom invited me to stay for your birthday dinner that evening as well. But when you came home, you brought a group of friends with you that I didn’t know. To not interfere, I acted like I was sleeping on the couch until your mom brought my plate over and woke me up. I arose to find one empty seat at the dining room table. When we made eye contact, I knew by the look on your face you didn’t want me at the table, or at the house at all. I ate quickly then explained how I had to leave to get back home. You later admitted that you really didn’t want me there. Before you were distraught, when I, the only person you invited to your fourteenth birthday, but now, I am the one who’s distraught because you didn’t want me now even though I was there.

It was about that time we stopped talking. Every once in a while, we would send a few texts, but I never saw you again after that. I still think about you a lot. What I have discovered though is that I don’t miss you. I miss what we had in middle school. I miss having someone to talk to after a rough day, someone to tell how great something went. I miss having someone who cares. I don’t miss the way you treated me the second time around. I don’t miss being ignored when having an especially bad depression day. I don’t miss having you belittle me in front of your actual friends just because I was different. I don’t miss you being embarrassed of me. Quite frankly, I blame myself for the whole mess. I whole heartily believe had I never come-out to you, we would’ve continued being friends. Things may have changed a little, but I never would’ve been replaced. If I could go back and do it all again, I would, and I would change things that I said. However, I can’t go back. I must wake up every morning and look in the mirror at someone I hate, because you hate who I am. I occasionally like to think I’m doing a little better, but when the holidays come around that’s when it hurts. When my birthday comes and goes, and I don’t hear from you, it hurts. When I come home after a rough day, I must talk to myself, because you’re not around. I wish things were different, but you have your life and I have mine. We’re two drastically different people, and as much as it kills me and eats away at me every second of my life, there’s nothing I can do about that.

Love always,
Your Ex-Best Friend