In case YOU read this ...

When I look at you, I feel nothing. And do you know what? I don't even feel bad for feeling nothing, even though my I tell myself I should.

You were my "best" "friend" for ... years. I don't even remember the last thing I verbally said to you. Almost everyday we talked for hours, in person, on msn, yet I don't remember the last words I spoke, the last joke we had. And it's been months. Months.

Months.

You never even knew me. You didn't know what life was like for me, or the things that I had to go through, or how some people, people that I trusted, have put me through hell and back because I'm not necessarily the same. You never understood why I never opened up, and you never tried to. And the part that really gets me, you never really cared. You were so fucking self absorbed. As long as you were happy, I didn't matter. When your life was shattered in a million pieces on the floor, I was expected to clean up the mess.

I was always second, usually third, best, always cast off to the wayside. I stopped being your friend because, unlike you, I have respect for myself, and enough was enough. You can blame me, and shoot daggers at me in the hallways, and spread fucking lies about me, and tell yourself that it was me: I blew up for no reason. The truth is, I saw it coming miles away, in slow motion: it was a long time coming, and you were just to self-involved to see it.

How sad is it that instead of consoling myself about a friendship lost and blah blah blah, I felt relieved, and dare I say, glad.

I honestly don't care, I wrote this in case YOU read this, get over it - I have. Stop. Just stop. And you know what I want you to stop.

Just stop.

And, do yourself a favor, buy a dictionary.