I mean, obviously there's more than that.
I had to get that out of the way.
Once upon a time, you saved my life.
Once upon a time, I was just a sad, little girl that flirted with death and prayed for an end, and you befriended her, you loved her. You talked me away from that edge, one phone call at a time.
But somewhere along the way, it all changed.
You changed. You got sad sometimes, and I was there for you. We were thick as thieves. I loved you, too. We had each other's backs. That's what best friends do, right?
But then, one day, it stopped.
I called you because I needed you. I could feel the depression eating away at me, at who I am, and I called you because I was scared, and I needed my best friend.
And you weren't there.
And it wasn't because you were too busy, it was because my depression made you "too sad" so I should stop talking about it. You and your mom joked about me and called me "Sad Emily."
And I wasn't sad, I was dying.
I was losing everything to this depression and I wanted to die and I was looking for a reason to hold on and you told me to get over it. As if that would suddenly make it go away.
But whenever you were down, I was always there.
I answered every phone call. One time, you called me crying, and I dropped everything to drive to your house. It's what best friends do. But when I called you, thinking about suicide...
And somehow, we got past it.
And we were best friends again. We were talking to each other about everything again. But I never did call late at night again when I wanted to die.
And then our first prom came.
And you let your little friends kick me out of the group. Your friend texted me like "I didn't know you two were on bad terms." It's almost like you wanted me out.
And when you told me about it...
Your words were "ooh, girl, I've got some good tea," like it was just some hot gossip. I had already had the dress hand made, I couldn't just back out. So I called you crying...
And instead of apologizing, you said...
"I feel like you've been suffocating me." Even though I listened to all your boy drama, let you diss our plans for your little friends, let you berate me and kick me around.
All I ever did was stick by your side and defend you.
But the one minute I needed you to stand up for me, you helped throw me to the wolves. And you refused to acknowledge my sadness. You told me to get over it and turned it to you.
But somehow, we got through it.
We were still friends. Even though it sounded like you were trying to break up with me when you said "I don't want you to hate me. We still have to share music stands and stuff."
But then , you and my "friends" planned a party...
And you purposely excluded me from it. And one friend was kind enough to clue me in. It wouldn't have been a big deal if you'd been upfront, but you taunted me with it and then lied to my face.
And then you told me to get over it.
You acted like I was the problem for wanting to know about it. You manipulated me into questioning myself. I knew it was wrong, what you did. It felt wrong. But you made me feel bad.
You made me feel bad for being upset.
Just like you always did. When I tried to talk to you about how bad my depression had gotten, you made me feel bad for being depressed. You made me feel like there was something wrong with me.
All I wanted for you was to feel better than I did.
I never wanted you to feel the way I felt. That's why I always invited you to stuff. That's why I called you randomly. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I didn't want you to feel like...
Like I didn't care. Because I did.
I didn't want you to feel as alone as I always do.
But somehow, we limped our way through it.
And terrible things passed. Our friends had surgery, there were hospital visits, position rejections, disappointments, bullying... And then summer came.
And you made sure I knew about the fun things you did.
And you never bothered texting me. And I tried to get by on my own. But all of my friends were busy, and things got really bad...
And I had never been so close to suicide.
And I texted you, asking if I could come over because I just had to get away, and you never replied.
And when I told you about it a month later...
You didn't seem to care. You just wanted to talk about that boy from work. And honestly, I don't really think you would care if I killed myself.
You used to be my go to, my rock...
But lately, you've been crushing me to death. All you do is hurt me now, and because I'm so addicted to our friendship, I don't know how to walk away, and you're poison in my veins.
You make me wish I were dead.
I loved you, and you used it against me. So this is me, doing what I should've done a while ago, like you do, I'm walking away. I deserve better, so...