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onemorrelight · 3 years

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Dear Andy,

You’re no longer dear to me, so I don’t think it’s appropriate to start this off calling you something that you’re not. That’s a lie. Somehow, despite being a bastard man, a betrayer of trust, and an oath breaker, you are still dear to me. How fucked up is that?

You gutted me. I was blindsided. I still miss you, and I hate that. I hate how you liked a post I reblogged and that fucked me up. Again.

What they don’t tell you about giving is that it keeps coming back. Every time there is a new reminder of them, or an action you hadn’t already mentally fortified yourself against, the pain just hits you again. Raw.

I heard Nine Inch Nails on the radio and cried. I haven’t thought about you in months, at least not for this long, until you liked my fucking tumblr post. I feel so weak. I want to message you and say ‘please don’t do that, unless you want a conversation or to talk to me.’ But that’s not something I should want. I need to believe that ‘sometimes the trash takes itself out.’

But fuck. You were a part of my life for so damn long. You were such a positive influence. I know you have your faults. I know this isn’t all my fault. I know this isn’t all your fault. I know I took you for granted. I know I wasn’t a capable friend. I’m still learning how to be one. We both fucked up and hurt each other a lot.

There is this book series; Red Rising; I think you’d like. I try and think of you as my Cassius. The fact that Cass isn’t my friend anymore isn’t an irony that’s wasted on me. But I try and shove you into the role of betrayed and betrayer. Someone who can’t see past his own prose and anger. Someone who called a Blood Fude. Which, honestly, sounds pretty accurate now that I list it out. But I think maybe you’re more like Rouke. Hmm. Or maybe that one is Cass.

Either way, watching the main protagonists fuck up his own relationships, and seeing him process what he’s done wrong, it’s comforting, I guess. I look at those three, and I can’t help but think it could have worked. If their younger selves saw what they would become, that maybe their anger wouldn’t have twisted their hearts so much. Maybe they would have felt like they could have opened up to each other. I think about how it still seems so irreparable. How things have gone too far. It’s relatable.

I miss you all. But I know that you all dropped me. When the going got rough, none of you talked to me. There wasn’t any conversation. I think that’s a big part that hurts. How I cared so much for all of you, how I would have made time if you told me you needed it; I would have gone to Denny’s at two am just to talk it all out, if that’s what you needed. But none of you did that for me. None of you reached out. None of you told me I was hurting you. I didn’t know.

Andy, I know we talked a little about how the texting delays hurt each of us. How some of the people I had made friends with were shitty to you. I dropped those people. All of them. I didn’t know they were shitty to you until you spoke about it that one time. I had no damn idea. I’m so mad I didn’t know or see it. It feels like I should have. Therapy tells me otherwise, but it’s such a hard emotion to fight.

I never really told you what I was going through. I realize that now. How could you understand something I never voiced. I’m learning how to read and understand myself, so that I can advocate for my needs, instead of going silent. I’m not making myself better in hopes that we could be friends again. For starters that would be creepy. But secondly, and most importantly, I don’t think I could ever trust you again. No matter how much I still want to.

Not you. Not Cass. Not Ryley. Not Hayden. Not Camille. Not Wes. Not Ellie. Not Edison. Not Maris. You all just dropped me. You all made it look so easy. It hurts so damn much. Andy, you were my best friend, and I was in love with you. My heart hit the floor and splintered. Everyone else sent it shattering. You all were my closest friends outside of Miles and Tori. That’s it.

I still don’t understand what I did so wrong as to have you choose to drop me and never touch again. Cass sent a text letter. I don’t know what I said or did that had them feeling broken. Therapy tells me no one else can make someone feel something else. It says that our own interpretations make us feel certain ways. Still, I don’t know what prompted that. But I respected them enough to heed the wish to be left alone. Everyone else was a fucking coward and didn’t say jack shit to me. I’m learning how to be angry. That’s a positive silver lining through this. My therapist was proud that I stood up for myself.

So, I know I don’t deserve to have friends that won’t talk to me, or won’t tell me when I’ve done wrong. I’m having better standards for myself. But, of all the people in the world, I still wish I was friends with you the most. But I know that relationship won’t be healthy for me. Not that you want one.

I’m guessing you didn’t know you were still following my tumblr. I sure as shit didn’t know I was still following you.

I should block you. It’d be safer for me. Maybe for you too. But that stupid little flame of hope yearns for you still. How pathetic is that? You cheated on me and I still want you in my life.

I think I have to block you. I can’t spiral like this every time you find something relatable that I share. Hope springs eternal. I need to do my best to circumvent this.

Goodbye Cassius. Rouke. And all you other assholes I thought better of.

I should channel Beyoncé’s Best Thing I Never Had.

Thank god you blew it. Thank god I dodged a bullet. You showed your ass and I saw the real you. Ooo I want you so bad, I can’t let you back, you turned out to be the best thing I never haaaad. Sucks to be you right noooow.

It also sucks to be me. Well. That’s one more thing I have processed you out of. So, hopefully, that with the blocking, this won’t happen again.

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