Silly Time

Dearest You,

Looking back over the years of our friendship and whatever we were in the recent past, I've realised we made time for each other. I know I always found time for you. And likewise on your end. We made time to spend with each other, even if it was watching a silly TV show. I think I can almost pin point when finding time for each other changed. It was after Memorial Day. We met for dinner and I believe it was the last time I knew for certain I was a priority with you. After Memorial Day I fell off your list. Texting became less frequent, calling became less frequent, email was unheard of, and while I continued to write you letters, I never heard back from you. To this day I don't know if you received my letters.

The awful truth is I could feel it. I could feel you pulling away. I wanted to you talk to me, just talk to me. And I received silence. Oh you'd text me about some headache at work or headache with your children. But you stopped talking about your family with me. Or telling me about your other friends. Or talking about your hopes or dreams or weekend plans. I was no longer held a place on the Need to Know List. I'm sure you'd say it was work pressure, you had so much going on at work you just didn't have time. But in all honesty, you talked to your other friends. In all honesty you simply no longer had a desire to include me. And I knew. I wanted you to man up and tell me. Of course you didn't. Of course you won't. Its your pattern to just let the women you no longer wish to have anything to do with fade away. And boy have I faded in grand fashion, you've made sure of that.

I'm too emotionally attached. I remember all too well what it was like being your best friend to ever settle for the scraps you seem to think I should enjoy of your time now. And for once I wish you would really see the mess you cause. The pain you can inflict with your callousness. It would have been kinder to tell me in June your feelings had changed. It would have been kinder if you had let me wall you off in December when I tried to. You asked me not to shut you out, and I didn't. I asked you not to shut me out, yet you did. You once told me you shut me out when we were younger to protect me from how you treat women. If this is a second attempt at such protection, you have epically failed. I hurt. I ache. I can't think of you and not ache. I can't be and not think of you. My ache is constant. To be utterly melodramatic about the whole thing, I know how Bella Swan feels in New Moon. I understand the need to hold myself in order to not feel how shattered my heart is.

I don't want to say you don't care. But from my perspective you don't. And knowing you don't care hurts the most.