I thought it would be easy for you to forget about me peacefully. I mean, you could hardly stand me last August. We visited one time for some reason or another, I knew then that I was already on the way out of the whole dynamic. I can’t remember if we exchanged even a word, but that’s how those visits went—I sit and behave in the corner on the floor (because I’m one of the children, remember? Remember saying that?) and I don’t dare interrupt even the small pieces of silence. At that point, though, I had nothing good to say to you anyway. Especially if August had passed. I resented you by then.
The dynamic thrived off of what was not communicated. It’s been like that since 2022, when I met everyone. As much as I cherished how close we became a few years later, I knew something would snap. I hated the fact. I adore every single one of you, and after so many shortcomings I realized that that admiration was unconditional. I’m afraid it’s still unconditional, even now, despite the clarity that I will never think of you the same, or anyone else involved. I remember you telling me that it was unconditional for you too, specifically when I went to stay in the hospital for a while. I believed it. You were always good at putting that on.
But, everything was conditional for you. And everything I did to retain the friendship we had, I just felt like a jester. And believe me, I’ve battled with the fact that maybe this is just the way humans work. I was very ready to excuse it, given I came to that conclusion. And I tried to come to that, desperately. For four years I tried to make some conclusion or another, because I just wanted some friends to last. I choked down all the anger I held those years because I just thought it was coming from irrational BPD spirals. Thankfully, 2025 exposed your negligence in such an extreme and unfortunate way, and thankfully it had nothing (yet) to do with me directly.
Come that October, the disaster of a few events cleared out all the straws I could offer. I left, completely, finally. If it was anything like August, I knew you weren’t going to show up for me. Despite what you knew of my character around cutting people off, I can say I couldn’t have an easier time with you three. You should be so, so ashamed. Ashamed that in four years, I cannot note even one way you have changed, cannot note that your apologies were expressed in your following actions towards me, cannot note that anything you have said to me was something wholehearted at all despite your tone of infinite compassion.
I’d never approach you again if my life depended on it. Because you never fucking move. If you have changed at all, you need to realize that you need to step out of your arrogance and approach someone, well reflected, and be wholeheartedly sincere for once. But instead, you’ve decided to be subliminal, still holier-than-thou, like you’ve always been.
I knew the dynamic was going to fall away somehow. But it sucks that it fell away because you just couldn’t be a good person in the end. There’s no other conclusion. And I’m glad now that you’re confined to the people you are confined to, I can tell that you never wanted more than that. Of course I left, ___, I don’t understand how you’re hurt by that, if you’ve reflected at all about how it was for me and ____.
(You’ll never know my true name)
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