You were a really good friend, at least for the first few years you were.

Maybe that ended when I started having boy problems of my own, and the late night phone conversations stopped being just about you. When I had struggles of my own, they were brushed off with a wave, I thought you would be happy, I finally got the happy ending you always said I’d have one day; the kind of happy ending we always read about in books and blog posts, and yet, you didn’t want to hear a single world about it.

Weren’t you happy that the shy girl you knew was finally growing into someone new?

Weren’t you happy that I was peeking out from the shell I built for myself?

Weren’t you happy that someone finally broke through?

Weren’t you happy that I found love when I thought I never would?

I just thought you’d be there for me when I met the boy who loved me, and the one who didn’t.

I thought you’d be here for the firsts and the lasts of my life.

I thought you would be there to tell my kids all our crazy stories, the lessons we had to learn, the heartbreaks I tried to help you through, but I realized, maybe that’s all I was there for. If you wanted to be the one to have the boy problems, be the center of the story, then go ahead, take the lead, but I won’t be your background character or your audience anymore.

I was tired of always being the listener, the advice-giver, when I was never heard in the monologue of your own story.

I always took on your stories; your hardships as if they were my own, I know we don’t have the same hearts, but I thought you would do the same, If a boy ever broke my heart like the dozens that broke yours.

I thought your heart was the same as mine in that regard; that it would feel the same pain I felt if someone broke your beautiful heart, but of course,

I was wrong.

I don’t know, maybe it’s better that I saw this side of you now.

I saw who you were before I really found the person I loved, because a real friend wouldn’t have done what you did.

I guess, while sitting in my room,planning the next date, there are nights I wish I could spill out all the details to you, like you would to me. I knew that if you were here, you would help me plan out romantic dates because we always had thing for the cliche’s and wanted to live our lives according to them as if they were our teenage mantras. You would help me plan out little treasure hunts, sticky love notes on post-it notes on his desk, on his wall on Valentine’s day with his favorite candy and country music album. You would probably help me brainstorm ideas for that hand-written love letter I would write for him on his birthday, because we always came up with the best quotes together,but you’re not here to do that anymore.

And you never will be.

You won’t be there on the phone, when I call you to tell you who just proposed.

You won’t be by my side on that altar, when I tell the man in front of me my vows.

You won’t be in the waiting room when I have my first child.

You won’t be there for all adventures we swore we would have before having kids.

However, I will tell my kids that despite your mistakes and the trust I lost, you were still a good friend, and that some people, grow apart in the hard journey of growing up. I will tell them that you can’t trust everyone, but that they can trust

I don’t know maybe I just like having the past stuck on repeat, because despite your betrayal, despite the knife you left in my back, I can’t help but remember the good times we had.

I feel like a lost more than a friend, but a sister I never had, but always wanted. You were an amazing friend for the times I needed you, when the battle on the home front were close to rising, but when love came into the picture, you turned your head away. I always listened to your cries, to your sorrows, I just kind of hoped you would have done the same.

The rest of my friends are always asking when I tell them about the good says we've had,

"Do you like picking at old wounds?"

Our friendship is just another old wound I've learned to stop going back to.