"No, we're not friends."
Every time I hear that from you, I have to hide my inevitable flinch. I know it's the truth; I know we're not friends. But even though it's sunk in since those venomous fights all those months ago, it doesn't hurt any less than it used to. And you acting like you're my friend makes it even worse.
I can't even count on one hand how many times I've been questioned on if we were closer than we actually were. Especially when we were younger - can I even remember how many times I was asked if we were dating? Every time, the answer was a "no" that tried to be firm, but over time, began to waver.
Right now, though, it hurts to have to say "no" when an outsider sees us having a calm moment and laughing like we used to.
I hate that I have to trash-talk you, tear your reputation to pieces, and live in a near-catatonic state of all the times we screamed at each other late into the early hours of the morning about something trivial that ended up snowballing into name-calling and vicious remarks. It's like having to live a constant double-life of either telling you I'm here for you, or spitting in your face about something you did that nobody would care about at this point.
We used to be so close - best friends who nearly became lovers. What happened to that bond we shared? The inside jokes and laughter that was forged early on from teamwork?
Was it really about the excuse you made up, or could you not handle that I was sick?
YOU ARE READING
Random Writings
RandomJust a thing of my random writings. Sometimes it's rage poetry, sometimes it's one-shots, sometimes it's little things that delve into a bigger story later on. We'll see what it turns into.
