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[25/09/2017]
It has been years since we parted our ways. How are you all?
I know you will roll your eyes when you read this sentence, but I want to say something to you: you miss a lot of things from me. Yes, we don't catch up. No communications, no warm message; nothing. It may sound like a cheesy line from an overly-dramatic sitcom, but that's what happens.
In the day I wrote this, one of my close friends (that's not one of you, of course) said that you were nothing, but the idea sparked to me. I should write this letter to you. I'm sure you will never read this, but I have to get this off my shoulder.
Where should I start?
It was several months ago that I found out. On a very sunny Monday, you betrayed me, even since we were together. I don't really want to go to details, since I still value your honor, but I know what you have done.
I was oblivious of everything that happened behind my back.
Believe me, it was a deep stab to my chest. I have faced rejections in my whole life, but I didn't think you would be the one who did that. I guess my inner lie detector didn't go well with you.
You were home to me. I adored you. I didn't even question your betrayal until my brain suggested that. I went through our old chats, I saw your—well, you know what I saw—and realization hit me.
My home never existed.
I was heartbroken. The pain was unbearable; even worse than parting with special someone. I was just imagining things. I was the only one who thought that we were besties.
I told this story to someone else. They* were more than happy to tell me that I didn't need to worry. They said I had already made more friends in uni; even better individuals than you.
After that, a realization hit me.
You may exist in my past as (ex-)friend, but you never step in my present. You were not in my side there when I fell apart. You threw away our friendship for the sake of fame and—childish prestige.
If I can say one honest thing from the past, I will say that I don't really blame you. There are a lot of stories I kept to myself when we were still together. I didn't even tell you when I fell apart (like, really fell apart at other place when you were still close enough to stab me). My gut feeling told me that you would have never been able to process that. What I experienced was not something common for people at our age (or even normal people with normal life; basically what all of you had taken pride for), but when did I go through normal phase like you?
Even my gut feeling is more capable to detect traitors than my consciousness. How pathetic.
At this point, everything was too late. I didn't realize that before. All of you never say sorry (or even feel guilty) about the incidents. Both of the parties made mistakes and were too stubborn to admit them. My anger couldn't be justified when I wrote this (although I don't think that you're fully innocent at this point because you keep doing things that hurted me).
The last thing I want to say to you is this: peace out. Thank you for your existence in my past.
I mean it.
You might leave scars, but you taught me to choose my close circle. I'm glad I do it, because I can be myself when I am with these new circles. I don't even need to fake a smile, hide my sadness, or mask my anger. My new friends know how to make a joke about it while helping me heal.
One last thing to say: misfit will actually fit; and I have found my fit.
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This text will cause confusion, but I will leave this message: if you don't understand this, this text is not for you.