"Best Friends"

Every single opportunity he got he called his "best friend" out. He called him out, told him explicitly that he wasn't anything special, that he hasn't done anything worthy enough to feel proud about, that he wasn't ever going to be a big deal, that he should probably watch his attitude, that he was arrogant for being the way he was, that he'll be a lonely loser if he keeps going this way, that he cares about him and that's why he's telling him all of this, that it is for his own good that he's advising him to be not the person he was. Every single opportunity he had, he made his "best friend" feel like he was worth nothing more than a pile of garbage. Every single opportunity he got, he hurt his "best friend" and hurt him so very badly, in the name of helping him, even saving him. Every single opportunity he got, he drove him away from himself just a teeny bit farther at a time. Every single opportunity he got he made his "best friend" feel like he is his own worst enemy.

And he, the best friend, couldn't take any more of it. He wouldn't say anything back to the person claiming to be his best friend. He would take all of this abuse, pretend like he wasn't at all hurt and walk off. Every time he walked off, he'd want to never come back to this person for he made him feel better off being lonely. He'd have tears balled up in the corner of his eyes, tears he couldn't let out to anyone. Tears that he had gotten used to having around. It was one thing to hear these words from strangers, from acquaintances, from random people who had no idea of he was. But to hear these words from the person who he thought he meant something to, it crushed him. To hear these words from someone whom he thought would always be there for him, from someone whom he thought understood him, from someone whom he thought he was special to, from someone whom he thought was actually his friend, broke him into a million fragments. Those fragments got broken up into a million more with time and that, he couldn't handle. Was it his own fault for trusting someone?, he'd often think. Because he was always a skeptical person. He knows he isn't a big deal and probably isn't ever going to be but to hear that from someone he thought he could trust, to hear that often from that person was just too very much for him to handle. So once again, he did what he was very good at doing. He shut himself out emotionally. The side of him that wanted to trust people, the desperate side of him, was closed once again, even though a part of him wanted to keep it open just a teeny tiny bit for he was always the guy with hopes. He promised himself that he wouldn't ever want best friends. He promised himself that he'd run away, far, far away from emotional attachments with people. He would write though, write every single day. For he needed to vent out somewhere. Somewhere he's safe. Somewhere he doesn't get judged. Some place that's just his and his alone. His happy place.