WARNING: graphic content
Believe me when I tell you how hard it is to let go. They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer but when one becomes the other, their respect for you crumbles, and you can no longer consider them your home. Where do you go, and how do you get used to suddenly being alone? Darling old friend of mine, this is my goodbye to you. I am finally going to wash all of your cheap promises off of my skin, and pull out all of the empty apologies you stuffed down my throat like a magician’s ribbons. I came to your circus because you promised me fun, yet in this room filled with monsters, you’re the hardest to outrun. You’ve shown me your two faces: the one you’ve hidden coming into view, and I keep asking myself how it got this ugly, if it is natural or if someone did this to you. I wonder why other people can’t see it, or if they have but haven’t survived. I wonder if I will, if I’d really rather keep living around you or if it would be easier to die.
Respect is a foreign language to you, I’ve spoken it in your ears but you just speak back in riddles with answers you can never seem to prove. I wish I could issue a refund on our friendship but the policy states “no returns,” so I have to live with my regrets. I convinced myself that I meant something to you, but with every stab at my sanity, my heart pushes you further and further out of my chest. If I could, I’d give you one star out of five since reviews don’t allow me to go lower and I’d remind you that “trust”, “respect”, and “loyalty” were all promised in the package. But all I got in the mail was a knife and instructions with a photo of my back that read, [INSERT HERE]. I couldn’t reach, so you did it for me. And you did it so, so well. Have you practiced that before? I wonder who taught you. I wonder if you backstabbed them as well.
Only you could have lodged that knife as deep as you did. I think it’s still there but my body is a river and I’ve learned to grow around it. I’m stepping off of this carousel, no matter how fast you spin it. The horses go up and the horses go down, and I know that you’re aware of everything you did. You can put me in your magic box and make me disappear, but I’ll keep whispering to you in the shadows that I will always be here. You can cut me in half and take my pieces away one by one but I don’t need them to puzzle myself back together, just like I don’t need you. You are built out of insecurity, latching on to anyone who promises to keep you.
On a night far from now, there are things I want for you. I hope you’ve earned the late nights where the vomiting doesn’t stop and in those moments, between the gagging as the tears roll down your face, you’ll realize what you put me through. I hope a friend takes your hand and holds it tight, tighter, tighter until your fingers crack and swell, too. I hope you remember me as the bright things inside of you turn blue. Life chooses victims at random and I promised never to hate you, but I guess that means that in my own way, I ended up lying to you, too. I wish I never kept your secrets at midnight, never brought you breakfast in bed, never told you I thought you looked beautiful because now every time I look at you, I see the garbage fire burning inside instead.
Karma is a ploy to convince people that those who have wronged them will get what they are deserving of. But really, do I have any need for cosmic revenge? I am no longer yours, and that is punishment enough. I’ve told you how you failed me and revoked all of my loyalty, protection and love. I know that I mean nothing to you, that I’m something sticky that you’ve gotten rid of. I made you rich when I bought every lie you sold to me. I want to steal them back, but time will tell if those lies will come back around and finally, at last, you will bleed.
Even as I write this, my heart aches that this is what has become of me and you. But I am tired of sitting and swallowing every razor blade embedded with things like “this is for the best” and “you’ve betrayed me, too”. When you cut me the first time and then told me that you were “scared of me”, I couldn’t find a reason but now, honey, you should be. You told me that no one is to blame and that all we really needed was some space, but I hope one day your heart breaks like mine, in all of the exact same places. You will fall apart eventually and I will feel the satisfaction of getting to watch the end. But deep down inside of myself, I know that this is never what I wanted for us, my friend.
In this piece, there is some sensitive subject matter regarding portrayals of depression. If you or anyone you know is experiencing depression or suicidal thoughts, please seek help from Ms. Rivers or any other trusted adult, or call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255. To learn more about warning signs, and what to do in a crisis situation visit suicidepreventionlifeline.org