To the toxic (best) friend I had to cut out,
I just wanted to say that I saw you the other day. You looked so beautiful (like always), but the scowl on your face was not very becoming of you.
I assumed the sour face was directed towards me, (maybe it wasn’t and I shouldn’t flatter myself). Nevertheless, for the first time, I didn’t even react: I just sighed. I sighed for the pain that still stirs inside of you. I sighed for your immaturity. I sighed for your toxic energy, worrying how it might be affecting those around you who haven’t cut you out yet. I sighed in relief, for myself, and I walked away knowing how liberating it is to finally let go.
They warn you that the worst form of pain is heartbreak, but they never tell you it can come from losing your best friend. I did not cut you out because you are a bad person. I cut you out because you didn’t respect me. I did not cut you out because you are a storm or a tornado or some other clichéd metaphor to describe a destructive person. You are not destructive—you were careless. I cut you out because you were a hurricane, but while you stood in the eye the whole time, I was your companion waiting in the aftermath, just hoping you’d pull me in for a few seconds of relief. I thought you were the sun, and your light was the only way my moon would shine.
You probably don’t care how I’m doing, because you never cared about anyone other than yourself, but I’m still tirelessly trying to figure out how I ever called you a “friend.” Everyone asks me if I’m doing better now, and I fake a half smile and nod. I’m not though. You were my best friend and literally one of the only people in my life. Now, I’m alone, and I’ve learned that’s a horrible reason to keep someone around. I think about calling you and apologizing but… I am not the one who needs to apologize. It’s taken me so long, but I finally realized I’m not the one to blame.
You also probably won’t listen to anything I have to say, but I wish you would take this tiny piece of advice. If there’s anything life gives us from painful experiences, it’s a lesson. Mine was to learn when to say no and to not hold onto someone else’s blame, problems, and hurt as my own when it becomes too much, even when I just want to help. I wish you would stop comparing yourself to others; no matter which way you do it, you will never be happy. I wish you would stop deflecting your blame like it’s a squashed bug on a windshield. Sometimes, it’s a red light, and you blew it. You need to take responsibility and admit that you’re wrong.
Somewhere deep inside me, I still want you to be happy. At the same time, I will not let you self destruct and blow up pieces of my own life.
As long as the night is filled with uncounted stars,
You will be my misfit moon;
We were the idiots who died trying to be the sky.
