When we met, it was so cool. It was so cool because we clicked so well. We had inside jokes within a few hours of meeting, and within a day we had each others numbers and we had crazy nicknames for each other. When we saw each other in the hallways at school, we would scream and hug each other and were always laughing together.

The first time you stayed the night, we were up until 3 a.m. talking and having deep talks about everything we could think to talk about. You knew my biggest fears, my wildest hopes and dreams, my deepest secrets, and my biggest stressors in life, after one night. You told me how unaccepted you felt, so I set out to change that. I thought I knew you.

You kept up your charade for months. You got closer to other people, and that was okay with me. You still came to me about your problems, but I suddenly noticed you weren't as available to talk to me about my problems. I thought maybe you were just busy, so I always just kept my mouth shut. After I graduated, I went through a bunch of stuff. And you were never really there to help me talk about it. As that summer went on, you became more and more absent, and we suddenly only talked a handful of times a month, when there was a time we would be spending every weekend together.

Suddenly, the only way I knew what was going on with you was when I would see on Snapchat that you were doing fun stuff, or you were lying in bed listening to music, but not texting me back. I spent so much time wondering what I did wrong. I felt so abandoned. Then, we finally started to talk a little bit more. But that abandonment still ate away at me. Why was this person I tried so hard to be there for suddenly so quick to shut me out?

Then we had that fight. I finally blew up on you. And we stopped talking. I will admit I should have handled that confrontation better, I shouldn't have attacked you the way I did. Attacking you in a three paragraph text message definitely wasn't the best way to have the conversation.

After that fight, I got a forced apology, and a month and a half of radio silence. I would always text you and see how you were doing. I would ask about life, and those genuine, caring questions were met with one word responses.

I stopped making an effort after yet another fight with you about how I felt abandoned. Maybe it was wrong of me expect an explanation for the sudden dynamic change. But was it really all that wrong of me to wonder why somebody I loved and cared for so much was suddenly treating me like I was yesterdays news?

I've realized that I need to just give up. I'm realizing I don't think I ever really knew you. I think I only saw the parts of you you wanted me to see. I only saw the finely tuned mask you wore. And I guess that's okay. It's probably best for both of us that I let you go. And thats okay.

But I'm done expending energy on a friendship that is dead. So I've given up.