![]() Maybe you’re unhappy about the juvenile ways I acted out when we were growing up. Maybe I developed principles you didn’t approve of. Maybe I’ve complained too much about the petty stuff. I won’t allow you to ignore my boyfriend (now husband) on the pretext of him being “just another guy you’re boy-crazy about.” I won’t allow you to dismiss topics I’m passionate about as “just another Facebook post for attention.” I won’t allow you to give your anxiety as an excuse, again, to trigger mine – like the day I hugged you goodbye after pretending not to notice your friends’ cold-shoulders and you stood there, arms at the sides, not hugging back (do you even know that literally gave me, and still continues to give me, vivid hurtful nightmares the past three months? you would have had you cared to ask, but I guess you don’t give a damn). I’m going to stop choosing people who have stopped choosing me a long time ago. When I asked, “So why do you keep being friends with them?” You said, “Because I have no one else.” They left you out yet you exert more effort to maintain a friendship with them than with me. You once confessed you felt isolated and helpless because you didn’t like your other friends (the ones you regularly hang out with). I don’t understand why you insist on telling me news about people I cut off from my life that you know I’d rather not hear or talk about OR why you tag me in sweetly captioned #BFF social media posts when I have not seen, heard, nor felt that amount of tenderness from you in real life as of late. Why when you’re hanging out with someone else, there seems to be more genuine laughter tumbling out of you. Why when I gush about what I love and hate, you cut me off to change the topic. ![]() Thus I don’t understand why when I enthusiastically share a new interest in something, you meet it with disinterest. Perhaps I was also insensitive towards you, but I’ve always counted on the fact you loved me, truly loved me, to never be intentionally callous. The excitement we both shared when hanging out became replaced by an ominous sense of resentment – of what I still do not know. The text replies came less and the seenzone-ing came more. It has felt that way the last years recently. I know it sounds selfish but it seems like you stopped trying. There was mutual trust, respect, and authenticity. Once upon a time we were a safe space where it mattered zero if we were farting, if we were experimenting with crazy hairdos, if we were naked, if you were changing your perspective of the world, or if I was obsessing with a new hobby. Lately our relationship has felt like walking on eggshells. We have known each other well for a number of years that I trust you understand why I’m writing this. The plane tickets without your name? This is the fall-out I never had the will to fight. Is it the crease between your lips? Where there lingers nothing but apology “This is your fault”? What separates self-love from What are farewells but another way of saying ![]() Drew Wilson This is the goodbye I never had the courage to tell you.
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