5/6/2026
I know how much you hate it when I finally get a good moment. I know how much you hate it when I have it easy sailing for once. I ask you and you say that it's praise, but deep down I can hear the grinding of your teeth being curled up into a smile of pride and ego. It's to be expected I suppose, you are only a human after all. I've seen many like you and called them [[[[[[[[[[[[[[.
You exhibit the same expression and tone every jealous [[[[[[[ makes and you don't even see it because your mind is telling you that the compliments will make it better instead of accepting your own failure. A [[[[[[[[[[[, doing better than me? That's what you're thinking right now back in the corner of your mind. It must be spacious, like a dark empty room with no lights on. My accomplishment lived so rent free in that little head of yours? I'm honored.
I see through your two face. Even the most gleeful ones couldn't hide their nature from me. I call it out, like usual, in a flat casual tone and your response is always an excuse. I hear it over and over again, the words escape from your lips constantly breathe and spit mildly toxic venom. All if not most sentences ending with a bee sting. Subtle yet hurtful. It's like you are subconsciously trying to provoke me. If it weren't for the sake of our bond and past memories I would've thrown this friendship aside.
You pathetic.
sad.
and envious creature.
You've changed. I know you 've changed. Some part of me wonders when it got so bad. Finally found your match and couldn't accept it? It's funny really. I used to think my poison was worse. The dose had a probability of leaking through layers while your words were fragrant like marigold. That was until I healed under the golden light of boundaries, figured I needed time to myself. Needed to set my mind straight. It worked and I returned with hopeful expectations to be normal again. To be accepted. I wonder how it felt like to be this carefree and safe around someone I've known for a while?
That's when I noticed it. I know now. I know how you hid the murder of empty praises under a tinted glass reflection. You did it to be showered in the eyes of many, but your hidden nature ticked forward like a pendulum in the end. I found out how much you loved attacking me indirectly. Grabbing your closest shard, words piercing through lead holes on the surface of an eraser.
You're still doing it. Even today.
I heard those words again, disguised as praise. 'Isn't that what we're doing, hearing both ends of the story?' I can see it from across the panel, the backhanded echoes emitting from your mirror. You have changed. I can see it. I can hear it.