So you think I love you and will never leave and never judge you and you love me.
Maybe it would be true if you were the friend I deserve.
See I’ve done all I can to smile, hug you, pray for you, be the best friend, not break so you can, and hold everything and say you aren’t a burden. I’ve caught your depression as fast as COVID if it’s possible and your anxiety? I caught that too.
I’ve texted daily, tried to gently get you to let the pain out, pushed and hugged and given and loved and held and wiped tears.
Have I been perfect? Obviously not. Who is? But… I’m starting to feel poisoned with one question.
What about me?
I was sick. Sicker than ever. And I cared for you like I was fine. While shaking with a fever and my head throbbing I checked again and again to see if anyone cared when I asked you to pray. I said I might go to the hospital. I almost wanted to. I almost came close. But then she begged for prayer and she isn’t ok so we jumped to pray and comfort like my problems didn’t exist.
Someone lied or I dreamed about it: there was a surprise for me, coming one day.
Who was I kidding? You need me, a procrastinator who cares, to stop everyone from procrastinating and just take care of someone.
Sometimes I want to leave but it would hurt you too bad. I’m trapped by my love and tortured with questions.
You know who I am and if you don’t, you should. I’m that friend of yours who pours time and strength I don’t have into you until I’m shriveled up sobbing on the floor. But you’re deaf to my screams, blind to my tears.
I found you and thought you would be better than all the people I’ve been with for months and months who hurt me.
Sometimes you are.
Other times you’re really not.
How do I keep choosing the wrong people, and how do they always start off as the right ones?
But if this hurts, I’m sorry. I love you. You’re beautiful. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I haven’t put my name on here.
But friendship should be a two way street and sometimes I’m the only one walking it.
Signed, the forgotten bestie