This friendship is over. I am not in the least bit sad about it. It was never real to me. I thought it could be. I did try. But you could never open up enough for it to be a real friendship. You're too busy trying to present this picture to the world that isn't real.
I'm too old for this shit. And you're even older than me. I won't be made to feel bad for just letting a friendship go. If I were to have problems in my other friendships, I would talk about it. I would deal with issues, no matter how painful. But with this one, I'm afraid I don't care enough.
I'm mad at myself for letting you off easy. For making it seem as though I'm just too busy. If I felt like you cared at all, I would have made more of an effort.
I've overlooked snide comments, snotty comments, mean comments, and I've thought to myself, "I don't need this shit".
Really, I don't.
Perhaps we'll say goodbye this week. We're both moving.
Perhaps we won't. Perhaps you'll just blame me some more, even though I've been the best friend you've had for four years. Did you ever ask yourself why the other women stopped talking to you? Because you will never open up. You'll never be vulnerable, or real. You'll never let anyone see you without makeup, or let anyone in if your house is a mess.
That speaks volumes to me.
I'm over it. I'm mad that I'm even letting it bother me. We haven't spoken in a week, but I'm being blamed for this. You could have picked up the fucking phone. Or emailed. Or done anything to show that you cared. But because your husband is deployed for longer than mine, your struggle is bigger and more complicated than I could ever understand, right?
And just so you know, your son's comments have made it obvious what you say behind my back. He's too young to understand what not to say. But now I know.
I feel like I'm in high school. Can't a friendship just end without any recriminations? It's not working, move on, end of story.