We met the summer before my freshman year and quickly became friends. Over the course of our high school career, we had our ups and downs, but ultimately, we stayed friends. You were, hands down, no questions asked, my best friend. We told each other everything. Even after I graduated, we stayed friends. We worked together, we partied together, and we cried together. We were always grouped together. If I got invited somewhere, it was assumed that you would be with me and vise versa. I stood by your side through all the legal crap and town gossip. When I moved away, our friendship never wavered. I never felt any less close to you. I was 500 miles away and you were still my best friend. We could make it through anything. You were with me when I found out I was pregnant. You grabbed my daughter's father by the balls (literally) and threatened to kill him if he hurt me. I expected him to hurt me. But I never expected it from you. You meant more to me than him. You were family.

As time went on, and I got more pregnant, you distanced yourself. We were still best friends, we still lived together but we hung out less. We caught up on those random nights when we were both home; eating junk food, playing Mortal Kombat, and filling each other in on our lives. It was on these nights that I told myself that we weren't growing apart, we were both just busy. When I went to the hospital to give birth, you told me to call you as soon as she was out so you could meet my daughter. I called, but you didn't come. I was in the hospital for three days and you never showed. I stayed with my dad for a week after I had given birth to her so he could help me adjust, and you still never came. My 'best friend' didn't meet my daughter until a week and a half after she was born, when I brought her back to our house. You claimed you were just too busy. I bought it, because I didn't want to think that you just hadn't shown up.

In the end, we almost lost our home. And as I stood in our living room and tried to lay out a plan for us so we didn't lose our home, you ignored me. You shot down every idea I gave. Then you said the one sentence that told me it was really over, "I have to look out for number one.". I couldn't speak anymore. In our friendship, there had never been a number one. We were both number one. We looked out for each other. We were supposed to be family. I left the house that was no longer a home and went for a drive to try to calm myself. As I went on this drive, I realized, you had been looking out for number one all along. I looked back at our decade of friendship and cried. You used me, so many times.

It's finally the end of our lease and as we part, I have some last words for you: I don't regret our friendship. I won't cover up the best friend tattoo we got, because at one point, it meant the world to me. I don't regret our midnight trips to meijer or all the times I cried to you. I won't throw out my adventure hat or the paintings we made. I don't regret all the friends we made along the way together. I will always cherish the memories we had. And even though we aren't friends anymore, I won't spill your secrets. No matter what happened, I can't change the past so that we were never friends and even given the opportunity, I wouldn't. Even though being your friend bit me in the ass, I wouldn't change it. At one point, we had a friendship that no one could touch. You were an asshole, but not to me. I was different. I was your best friend. I had your back no matter what and you had mine. I regret not believing everyone when they told me you would eventually treat me like you treat everyone else. I never thought it would happen. Ten years. We made it ten years. But you broke my heart like no lover ever could. And I recognize that this isn't easy on you either. We've had that conversation since I told you I couldn't be friends with you anymore. I get that you lost a best friend in all this too. It sucks but it's for the best. But thank you for teaching me a very valuable lesson. And I'm sorry that the end of our lease will be so hard on you, but in the words of an old friend; I have to look out for number one.