There was always conflict, but we repaired each rift rather quickly. But I often tried to save you, too, although your pride will never admit that.
We never liked the other's lover - except Mike. You liked him so much that you became his friend. You betrayed me by encouraging him to leave. Well, fuck you. Because I left. It was my choice, and I hate you for being a dick about everything that you want to involve you.
Have fun with your baby. And your marriage. And everything you always swore against.
Because you lied.
And I don't want to forgive you. Instead, I'll pity you and continue. I didn't need you after high school, and deep down, you knew this although you still needed me. I hope you found it rewarding. I hope it was what you wanted.
I actually don't care about you at all.
I hope to not run into you because I think you're unstable and worry about the scene you might decide to create to make yourself feel powerful.
I don't remember much of what we did together, and for that, I am thankful.
You are the one I won't miss.
I hope you enjoyed settling in nearly every challenge you've faced. It's easier - right? Maybe that was our biggest difference. We never really understood each other's point of view. We were and always will be complete opposites, and it's ok to no longer want to be around the other. There's only so much one could take, and this was it.
Anticlimactic and humdrum.