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So you’ve realized that life just isn’t as great as you thought it was, it’s about time. I was wondering if you’d ever notice how superficial you’ve become, but even then I might be giving you too much credit. I’m disappointed in you, especially because you expect me to just keep caring. I offered my help and you took it just long enough to stand on your own again, renegging on the idea that friends are to be around for each other, instead of what we have now.

So am I supposed to keep caring? To keep watching you destroy yourself over and over again, because it’s clear that I can’t really help you, because you don’t want to help yourself. Instead of looking for a real solution to the way you’re feeling, you drown yourself in drug abuse and you’re actually proud of it! It’s simply too painful to see you like this, especially when it is your own doing.

Maybe you should consider yourself disowned, finally, because I really don’t think I can deal with this unrelenting disaster you create of your life, anymore. I’ve been there for you as much as I possibly could for the last four years, I’ve gone so far out of my way just to try to help you, but you keep throwing it away.

I come to you because I’m not feeling too wonderful about the world and you tell me to go get on meds or just go hookup with people randomly; you don’t want to put any effort into actually being a friend to me, even though I’ve always tried so hard to be there for you, it’s not fair to either of us anymore. I don’t recall ever telling you to take your problems elsewhere, that I didn’t want to deal with them, but now that’s what I’m going to say, because it’s far too easy for you to do it to me.

You’re fully welcome to continue fucking up your life, but I want absolutely nothing to do with it. Continue to buy your superficial version of happiness, your drugs, leave me out of it. To paraphase what you said to me the other day, you’ll still be around in a year right? If it’s so easy for you to take a year off from the obligations that friendship carries, why can’t I?

I was thinking about you this morning. I often do, but today was different. I don’t know how to talk to you without being angry, it’s not that I’m angry with you, but with circumstances; the circumstances that we control and also those that we do not. I always just assume you know how important you are to me because for some reason it doesn’t seem appropriate. I see all of this… and I don’t always remember why. I remembering holding you night after night, and wanted to be back there.

I don’t know if I will ever understand how I feel, the uncertainty proves a difficult barrier when I want to open up. I know the life we dream about is out there waiting for us… and every unorganized conspiracy against us is only proof of how important it is to get there, for the first time or again… and every part of me knows we’ll succeed.

“So are you going to tell me what happened between us or are you going to run away? You surprise me, am I to believe that you never really loved me anyway? What did I do that was so horrible that your only action to me is silence? So horrible that I don’t deserve to know why you don’t want to even talk…? I miss you… even more since my dad died. I guess it’s pointless to try, isn’t it? Well, I’m very sorry, and I love you… still, I just wish you’d let me tell you, that we could be civil, end something that was wonderful with honesty that I felt we had. I am a friend to you, even if you won’t be to me….when I need you most.”

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I don’t want this to be a game, because it isn’t, it’s about love and treating another human being properly. It’s not about revenge… and I can’t understand how one could come to the conclusion that it would be needed.

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I’ll tip my hand… at 5:29am I sent it…

To Davey,

Words fail me… I care for you, I would like for us to talk… I still don’t understand what happened… how we could go from love… to this. I miss you. I love you.