Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Unfriend

                Friends don’t break up. Then what happened? Did we mutually unfriend? As weird as it sounds, I’m heartbroken; I deleted his number, I unfriended him, and erased all the conversations we ever had. But even if I can’t read his words, they play through my head. I miss him and it’s stupid. I don’t know if I’ll feel better sooner or later or not at all, but then it was only last night. Work only distracted me for a while, then the sorrow returned. And a little anger along with it.
                How could someone who called themselves my friend be so hurtful? It certainly wasn’t accidental; he knew the effect he was having. His messages were volleys of fleche digging into me.  The more I opened up, the more he maliciously rejected me.  There was not found farewell, there was just a flat statement. He was pushing me away and building a wall between us.
                I wish I could be happy just to spite him. I wish I could say I didn’t care. But I know different. I know better. He means a lot to me even now, even after. It hurts. It hurts more than the slap I got from my mom for having him over at a spontaneous swim party. It hurts more than the fear and the solitude that followed. Worse than feeling estranged, running away, and never coming back. I live with friends, not family.  Of course, there were incidents before this one that helped me make my decision, but this was the last straw.
                The day before my 18th birthday, I ran away. It hurt. But this hurts more. And he’ll never know what has happened. I never had the chance to say. Maybe Mom was right about him. Perhaps all the things she said were true. He is arrogant. He is manipulative. He isn’t a good person.  I just believed there was more in him. The potential is undeniable. He could be a force for good. Just not yet, not for me.  Nothing will change that.
                He gave me a new name. He showed me a new way to think. I felt special in his eyes, I felt I could do more and be more than I was. He lifted me and now he has dropped me. I need my old name back. My true name. No more “Schmidt”. I am Alyssa, and I always have and always will be. He changed  me, but he cannot define me. I choose who I am, who I want to be, and who I will become.

                I wish it wasn’t goodbye.             

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