I miss you when I shouldn’t…

You were my best friend. You were my person. At least, I thought you were. We spent more nights hanging out every week than not. You inspired my creative soul. We created things together. I could talk to you about anything and you made sure I did. We spent hours delving into some of our deepest darkest secrets. Our time together was never small talk, we both hated it. Even though we both had kids it wasn’t about being moms or our husbands. It was a mutual exploration of our own souls. You were so much like me and I had never had that before. I realize now that you were so much like me because you mirror the person you are spending time with. I realize that everything I thought I had with you was an illusion. But even knowing it wasn’t real there is a huge you-shaped gap in my life. I hate that I miss you. I hate that even after years of not speaking to you I think about you almost every day. You destroyed me and I still sit here hoping that your life turns around and you can become a happy and mentally healthy person.

You went on a concentrated campaign to obliterate my life. It started long before I ever saw you for what you are. You isolated me from our other friends with lies. Then you proceeded to tell those friends things about yourself that were really my life, my story. You began to try to take over little parts of my life. You always thought you could do it better. You went from being someone who inspired me and filled me with light to me being depressed and anxious after visits with you. I was starting to see you, the real you. Your facade was slipping but I didn’t want to be the person who gave up on you like everyone else. Man, you really had me pegged. By the time you did what you did to me, it was too late. I still can’t name it or discuss it out loud. I still get dizzy and sick when I think of it. I spent over a year trying every day not to kill myself. I went from being a mostly happy, mentally balanced person to suicidally depressed and alone. You became the monster under my bed yet…still I miss you.

I know it isn’t really you I miss but the needs of mine you met. I know it was just you percieving what I wanted and needed you to be and changing yourself to be that. It is intoxicating. I lived my whole life being out of step with those around me. I was used to it. I was ok with it for the most part. I had large diverse groups of friends who clicked with certain aspects of me but you became the one person who clicked with all of me. It made the aftermath even more lonely. I know it was all a manipulation now. I understand the things you did, the way you got me to share my darkest secrets and then in those last hours of our friendship you used every one of them as a weapon. I no longer trust anyone. I don’t even trust my own judgement because I missed so many red flags with you. You told me when I first met you how broken you were. I didn’t care because I am weird and different and broken people are my people. I should have listened more. I should have paid more attention when you tried to control the narrative of who I am. I’m just so used to people telling me how I should be that I brushed it off. There was much I should have seen that I chose to be blind to because we CONNECTED. I know this sounds like I was in love with you. I wasn’t but I did love you. You were my person. I would have moved heaven and earth for you.

I’ve seen your life fall apart since your campaign against me didn’t have the desired results. You were kicked out of your home. You lost your family and all of your friends. You are struggling so hard now. You hurt and alienated anyone who truly loved you and now you can barely survive. I want to reach out to you. I want to help you. Despite the fact that you betrayed me, fractured my mind, and drug me through the mud I care about what happens to you. However, your very actions are why I can’t help you. Any help from me looks bad. I can’t let you back into my life. You already took everything from me once and I know, in time, you would do it again. You are sick. You know it. You advocate for mental health all the time. Only when it comes to yours you hop doctors to avoid the diagnosis they keep giving you. You don’t stay on your meds. You fail yourself constantly.

I am supposed to forgive you, especially since your behavior is fueled by your mental illness but I can’t. You drove me to the day I sat on the floor beside my bed with a gun in my hand ready to end it all. You stated specifically that was your goal. You wanted me to be as messed up as you. I can’t forgive the lies you told. I can’t forgive what you put me and my family through. I can’t forgive the years I’ve lost trying to put myself back together. But I miss you and I worry for you still. I know I need to put you out of my mind and never think of you again. I know that missing you is a betrayal of myself. I just miss having a person who understood me. Even if it wasn’t really real.