Like most good things in life, some friendships must come to an end. Rarely is it an easy decision. Sometimes it happens gradually, other times it ends all at once in an explosive ultimatum. Sometimes I ended friendships, other times I had people walk out on me. We've all experienced this.

A friend breakup can be just as heartbreaking as a real break up. You have all these inside jokes that are suddenly irrelevant. Countless great songs have been ruined for us because of the memories associated with them. That's Ok, though, because I'd rather not have you in my life than have one of us be absolutely miserable.

Regardless of how this friendship ended--whether over time or over night--one thought haunts me for everyone that I no longer talk to: do you still think about me? I tell myself you don't because it's easier to feel happy that way.

Particularly with regard to the people I thought were my best friends in high school. I was impressionable and naive in my 16. I was pretty certain that we'd be friends for a very, very long time. Until you told me you didn't want me in your life anymore. Just like that, it was over. I never got an explanation, and you convinced our mutual friends to attack me.

I woke up one morning to a friend request from myself. I was confused, but I opened it up. What I read broke my heart. You posted hurtful pictures. You called me a Nazi, and you insulted me wherever you could. You sent requests to my friends. I still don't know why you did it, but it sure helped me realize that under no circumstances did I want you in my life anymore.

I confronted you about it, and when you saw that I hadn't reacted the way you wanted - I approached them with humor instead of anger, it made you angry. But I got a confession out of you.

You could have at least put "Harry Potter" under my favorite books, not movies.

Good to know. I'll go change it.

I thought it was over. I reported the page. My friends reported the page. It was quiet. And then I woke up to another request. You made a page about my sister, someone you did not know. You attacked our family, our culture, the languages we spoke. You called us prostitutes.

I was 16, and you were my friends. You were the ringleader, and since then, you are the only one who has not apologized in some way. The other two did, but I only accepted their apologies, I did not forgive them. Only one of you was genuinely remorseful. For that, I am grateful.

So here I am, years later, plagued by the memory of it all because Facebook's 'On This Day' feature. I waste my time thinking about you and how I could have avoided this. Surely I could have seen some form of warning signs, but I didn't want to.

But you know what? Thank you, because without you, I would have never made the friends who I have now. Without you, I'd have very low standards for friends. Without you, I would have never had this kind of respect for other peoples feelings. I will always come to someone's defense. I will never cyberbully them. I will never leave them without some kind of explanation, if they want one, they can have one.

I wish you could read this just so that you can understand how big of a jerk you were. I hope I was the last one you attacked like this. I hope the others got out from underneath your manipulative hands. I hope you feel some kind of guilt for what you did when those anti-bullying commercials come on.

So to you, reader. Please do not lash out at people you don't want to be friends with. Just leave the situation. Leave the people alone. Step back and be responsible. And if you have bullied someone in some way, I hope you find it in yourself one day to apologize to them, or at least feel true remorse for what you did.