I’ve let you down, yes I know I have.
I have spoken about you to others when we weren’t good. I meant no malice, but I was upset and I needed to talk. I deserved to talk, to vent. You may be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay when you hurt me. I understand that you are human and you need to hurt me sometimes, I hope you understand that I’m human and I may hurt you too.
I have not taken some of your problems very seriously. That’s unfair, I know. But everything I see is only through my perception, and sometimes mine ends with my limited experiences. Maybe someday I will understand what you went through, but if you’re a friend you should hope I don’t. That’s a bit hard, right? It’s okay.
I’ve lied to you and bailed on you to sleep, I’ve bailed on your mom’s birthday celebration to meet someone I just felt like I had to. Where were my priorities? I don’t know. You always tell me to follow my heart so I did. You ask me to not feel guilty for doing so, so I haven’t.
I let you go without a word. I let you walk away when I should have held you back and told you how I felt, when I should have given you an explanation. I didn’t. That was so messed up. But sometimes I don’t have the strength to go through a whole cycle of blame games. I envision what you will say and I don’t give you a chance to say anything different. I don’t even give you the chance to know what I am thinking when you have every right to know. But you didn’t ask me, did you? No. You didn’t ask me.
Sometimes when we were apart, I didn’t miss you like I said I always would. I didn’t even think of you. When I thought of you, I was glad you weren’t around, I enjoyed our distance and felt deeply grateful for it. I know, what kind of a way is that to feel about a friend? How could I even call myself a friend? I don’t know, maybe it’s because I still love you.
Most of all, I know I haven’t always been there for you when you have needed me. I haven’t showed up with a hug or a phone call or even a text to check in on you. Even when you told me you were going through a rough patch, I wasn’t the best kind of friend I should have been. I didn’t ask you about your difficult boss or your nasty breakup. But you called me a best friend, you said you loved me, and I just hoped you knew that I was there, somewhere in my absenteeism, thinking of you and wishing you the best.
I strongly believe that to have a friend, you need to be a friend. I know I haven’t been the personification of that belief, but here is what you need to know.
I still do call you my best friend.
Even though I’ve hurt you and you’ve hurt me aplenty, I have loved you through the tears. I have rooted for you through the heartbreaks. I have held on to you even when I let go.
I check up on you through funny ways, stalker-ish ways, and I am glad when I hear that you are doing well. When I know you are upset, I pause for a moment wherever I am and I send out a silent prayer for you.
I always think of you when I listen to Titanium or Rehab. I think of you, and your people and I wonder how all of you are, even when I don’t always ask, even when I’m not one of your people, I think of you. I think of our memories and I laugh and I cry every single day. I think of you because you were, are and always will be a part of my heart, a part of me.
I am me because you are you, you have been a part of my journey and even through the silent weeks, months and years, I will never give up on our friendship, I couldn’t even if I tried.
I will never give up on you.
So I call myself a friend. I even dare to go as far as calling myself a good one sometimes. I’m not always the best, but I’m here. And I’ll be here.