The Letter on My Desk

My Old Friend,

I wish I had the courage to send this to you, to get this all off my chest. But I’m a coward, so I write this letter instead.

There’s so much I want to say, to ask. Why did you treat me like trash, like a fool? Did five years of friendship not afford me the right to being told our friendship was over? Was it fun to string me along for months, to make me think what we had could have been saved when you knew all along we were done? 

It’s been a year since our friendship ended and I’m still angry. I shouldn’t be, I should have moved on by now, but it’s hard. It’s so hard to let go of what we had, what we could have been. To move on feels so hard but I’m trying.

I’ve learned that I don’t have to forget you completely. I can still remember all the good times without wishing for more. I can remember how much fun we had without wanting to reunite.

I still have days where I want you back, where I want to be your best friend again. Then I remember what I’ve gained since you left me behind. I’ve become more outgoing, made more friends, rekindled some of my passions, gained some confidence. I no longer have to put all of my energy into maintaining our friendship, I can use that energy on myself like I should have been doing all along. 

Even though you broke my heart by treating me horribly, by not having the decency to tell me for so long you didn’t want to be friends any longer, I have to say thank you. 

Thank you for the memories.

Thank you for letting me go.

Thank you for giving me my life back.

Thank you.

I wish I could send this to you, but for now this will remain on my desk.


Thank you to all the readers for allowing me to get some closure,
Sydney