You were a good man. Well, I wanted you to be. Honestly, it’s not to say that you aren’t a good man—truly, you are. You just weren’t a good man to me.
I stood up for you many times. I lightly explained things you’d been through without exposing your privacy. I tried. I tried to tell my friends who continued to ask me why I kept letting you do this to me.
It never seemed that bad to me until I was tired; once I was tired, I started to look at the situation from more of an outside perspective. Then you did it again, and I realized it was that bad. You were just using me, calling me whenever you were lonely or didn’t have anything else. You were just calling me when it was not only convenient for you but pleasing to you. It didn’t matter what I was doing or how I was feeling. I didn’t matter.
You knew that I would come. You knew I would want to come. You knew that, damn it. It made me feel good to be with you, to just be around you. So you called. I always gave in. You always got the benefit of the doubt from me until I realized that I really didn’t matter. I finally realized that if something more exciting or someone better came along, I wouldn’t even be a consideration to you.
Insane. You are freaking insane if you think I will ever be a backup for you. You are insane for treating me like an option. You don’t understand that yet, and that’s okay. When you’re made to feel like a backup, a second option, just something to fill a void for someone else, you’ll know. It won’t be right away; it won’t be the second or third time you’re plainly treated that way either.
It’ll be once you’re excited to see this specific person, and you know you’ll actually be upset if you can’t see them. Something or someone more exciting will come along for them, and they will ignore you until you decide to check on them. Then they will give you a shady excuse so that you’ll know, so that you will get the hint. You’ll be left at home, dressed and ready to go with nowhere to be. That’s when you’ll think of me. You’ll shake your head and rub your face, run your fingers through your hair. You’ll be standing there wondering if this is how I felt. Not even close, but at least you have some taste of the idea.
I don’t wish this on you; I would never wish this on anyone. In fact, my kind heart feels bad for you. My heart hurts to know you’re standing there feeling the flat out disappointment that I felt time and time again. “We’re friends. I will always be here if you need anything. I want to be friends.” However, I’ve never treated any of my friends this way. I’m sure you were told that you were friends with the person who just left you with that stone cold feeling. I’m sure you agreed, just like me, with a small grain of hope that something more would become of you two because of how special they made you feel when you were with them. This isn’t a very friendly feeling, is it?
I’m truly sorry if you ever have to feel this way. Hopefully you won’t—that’s just the kindness of my own heart. You are a good man, you just weren’t good to me.