i haven’t thought about this in a while. in fact, it’s been months since i’ve reminded myself of this story. i’ve been so happy during the last six months of my life that i managed to forget about it entirely. and then, it all came crashing back with a little game of telephone.

you see, i once had this friend. and when i say “friend”, i mean the phony-baloney, stab-you-in-the-back kind of friend. you know the type, the one who tries to do nice things for you (very little things that aren’t too little to be used to inflate their sense of morality later on) while they harbour ulterior motives for everything. and when i say “everything”, i mean everything.

now, i thought i was pretty close to this friend. but in retrospect, i don’t think i ever was. we had the occasional conversation about our plans for the future, family dysfunctions, and relationships. but now that i think about it, they were the most shallow and superficial discussions. i never felt as though she understood me, and i never understood her.

i’ve realized that we were never close — not close enough for me to get over her special stupidities (and not the cute kind, either). it’s not so much that she basically ended up with the guy i was “interested in” and introduced her to (and the fact that she has tried to do it in the past). because if it was really all about that, i think i’d have to hang myself in remembrance of how homosexual his tendencies were and how pug-fugly he was. but i digress. i was at a point in my life when i felt so extremely vulnerable and desperate, and she knew that. my trust was fragile after my last catastrophic relationship, and she knew that. i was making new friends at university, and she knew that. she knew because i told her, and she took advantage of all those things.

it was about trust, something we never really had. you know that exercise they make you do at school where you lean backwards to fall and someone standing behind you catches you? you see, that’s trust, that’s the feeling of mutual understanding and compassion. that person standing behind me was her. only, she wasn’t catching me; she was booting me in the ass, and then pretending to feel bad about it.

i wish i were more upfront with my feelings to her. i wish i didn’t try to shelter her as much as i did against other friends who hated her and to whom i defended her on a regular basis. i wish i let her know what a sorry reputation her actions have forged for her among many she has “befriended”. i wish she knew those things instead of those other things which she used to take advantage of me, then maybe i wouldn’t hate her as much as i do. i feel like the biggest putz, in every naïve sense of the word. i’m a sucker, i’m a bleeding sucker.

the only way i can get over this, and the only way i choose to get over this, is to wipe her out of my life — like i have for the past year and a bit. i don’t want to think about her. i don’t want to hear about her. i don’t want to even acknowledge her existence. is that so hard to understand? i’m usually a very passive person, but even doormats wear through eventually.

she came to this site before and told me to “have a nice life” after reading one of my more bitter entries. to which i replied “stop acting so wounded.” and then i have to hear about her wanting to talk to me again? what… the fuck. i don’t want to hear stuff like that. i don’t want to hear that she “regrets what she did” but how “happy she is.” at least when brutus stabbed caesar he didn’t continue twisting the blade when the corpse was cold. i want to be strangers. strangers, goddammit! anonymity… she owes me that much. i want her to see this and stop talking about me.

stop discussing me with your little boyfriend and stop pretending you care. stop feigning to be the hooker with the heart of gold and stop trying to factor yourself into my life.

maybe when she stops full-stop, her guilt will subside and she will see it for what it truly is: smugness, petty and unfeeling. and then maybe i can have another six months without being reminded of her existence. does this sound a little harsh to you? good. i’m tired of going by the fucking book of social conduct.

if you’re reading this, don’t reply. because, not only will you have ruined my long-standing perception of friendship, you will have also ruined my rant.