I pulled a dick move. Really, I can admit it. Yeah, maybe using the words "a dick move" trivializes what I did to you. But that's just the kind of mood I'm in. I've already sincerely apologized, I've did my share of feeling bad. I admit didn't feel so guilty at first until someone yelled at me for an hour on your behalf. God Michaela, I can't figure out if you were just drunk or if you're just an asshole. You really aren't the person I thought you were. I can't believe you'd be so stupid. He made me feel like absolute shit. I felt like the most horrible person in the world. It was my birthday, but I still spent a chunk of it sitting in my car alone for an hour trying not to cry because I just couldn't bear the thought of talking to or seeing anyone. Maybe it doesn't sound like I felt that bad, but just trust me. I did, I'm just not conveying it well because I let go of the sadness and replaced it with something else. Anger. Just because my apology came after someone pushed me to see my mistake, you see my apology as invalidated. What does that mean? It means my apology will always be invalid.
I'd go on a rant about how you didn't even have the balls to yell at me yourself, face to face, but I think that's beside the point. The point is, if you're not going believe me, I really can't do anything about it. Apologizing a million times won't help. Apologizing a billion times won't change a thing. Why? Because you don't want to just hear me say sorry. Even if you could get inside my skin and feel my genuine regret, it wouldn't be good enough for you. Maybe good enough would be me, begging for forgiveness. On my knees in front of you. Self deprecating. Telling you that I'm not worthy of you but that your opinion of me is what matters the most. That I'm a selfish horrible person that wants you to be my bff even if I know I shouldn't expect you to ever forgive me. You want me to tell you how much I love you. You want me to tell you that you're the best friend I've ever had. That you're all I need. You might as well be telling me to suck your dick. I won't do it.
Because although at one time I might have called you my best friend, you're not the friend I thought you were. I've counted all the times we've been thorough this routine. With me fucking up in your eyes. Me betraying you. Me doing this saying that not doing this not saying that. Not talking to you enough. Not putting you at the highest priority…If I'm always doing something to hurt you, why did you pick me as your proclaimed bff? Because you're a jealous power hungry, self-esteem sucking, hyper-sensitive bitch. You saw through my weakness at the very beginning and realized that though I've built defenses out of arrogance and confidence, I hate it when people are mad at me and I'll avoid it at all costs. Even at the cost of groveling. Even at the cost of apologizing for stupid things like not hanging out with you for a couple weeks or not being responsive on aim because I've got a lot of homework.
I'm so sick of this dance. It's tedious and boring. It's like math. A problem that never ends, like using long division to divide twenty-two by seven.
Maybe this time, I can admit I did something hurtful and wrong, something worth apologizing for. But all I can apologize for is being too tired to try and win you back again. You've already exhausted the reservoir of dignity I was willing to lose. And yes, I know it's an oxymoron to call you my old best friend forever, but you should have realized that just calling me your bff wasn't enough to make it last forever. Maybe a little mercy, maybe a little flexibility, maybe a little more trust and things would be different.
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