Some friendships end and it doesn’t make any sense.
I did all the right things, some wrong things. But in the end I took the brunt of the loss. I lost my apartment because I let you stay with me, a deal I didn’t bargain for, but we clicked instantly so it was welcomed. I had a friend in this town I just moved to and didn’t know a soul.
We bonded over our love for tequila, cars and laughing. Nights where I would usually drink wine and dance through my apartment alone, you became my dance partner in crime. We’d dress up and I’d take you to events work drug me to. We worked our asses off every day, I’d come home and cook us dinner while we gushed about guys or skipped off to the pool.
Soon guys took over our conversations. Your recent break-up was hard but you handled it well, new guys in your que, and I fell for your guy friend.
One month quickly turned into two, we grew further apart as we grew closer to the guys. Meals for two became me cooking for four. We went from dancing in the living room to you arguing with your guy on the patio every night. My one bedroom apartment got smaller and smaller, my living room became your bedroom.
Two months hit three and I traded sleeping in my bed to spending the night at his house. You’d drop by every now and then. When me and him would argue, you were involved so much that I began to feel we were not as close as I thought we were.
Staying with me was the better of your options, but was the friendship ever legitimate or was it convenience?
New to vulnerability I took it to heart when you moved out. I said you would have to go but I didn’t think you would really do it. I wanted to hold on to the dwindling situationship we had.
But it just wasn’t going to work anymore.
I had got the notice to vacate my apartment due to “occupants” not on the lease — which was probably a result of your patio arguments.
You turned your guy friend against me. Told him truths or lies I’ll never know, whatever would turn his “I love you” into fiction. Salvaging either relationship was out of the question. I was cut off, I was angry. A chance to justify my stance was hopeless.
While a stain was left on my heart — and my clean slate of rental history — you escaped untarnished, your heart still intact.
And somehow after all of that I’m still the bad guy because things didn’t go your way.
I expected more but in the 10 years that rests between us, wasn’t shocked with what I got.
But it was better I hurt than you. I learned my strength and my capability to move on without closure. I learned how to be the bigger person twice, in a city where I only knew you two.
I hope you learned from my little sister and hopefully, hopefully I showed you a taste of the limelight you could so have for yourself.