Dear, Whom It May Concern

Dear Warner,

So, how's life? Isn't that sad, I have known you since we were six and I have to ask how you are. Then again I never really was a priority in your life. Your prettier, more popular, and more skanky friends were always put first.

I know, I sound like a jealous girlfriend. But, damn it Warner, you are supposed to be my best friend. We have shared our deepest secrets, dream jobs, but the only time we ever talk is school. And that's only in the classes we have together.

The adults see you as the smartest kid, most good looking, wholesome boy they have ever met. I know the real you, though. You smoke, drink, and have multiple girlfriends. How is the little kid who used to play at recess with me become such a dick.

You know what, though. The thing that makes me the most sick. I still think of you as my best friend. Even after all the ignored calls and texts.

I really do not have much else to say. Other than Megan is slowly taking your place, as the person who I tell everything. She actually listens to me, cares about me, and at least talks to me.

While you hang out with those whores. How many girlfriends do you have right now? 3 or 4, 6 or 7. I can't keep up, nowadays.

Oh, I do have to think you, though. You inadvertently introduced me to my favorite band and you probably don't even remember it.

It was about two years ago in ago. You told me to listen to this song and it was The Maine's The Way We Talk. Ever sicne then they have been my favorite band. However, that's about the last good thing you have done for me.

All I can say is have fun with those sluts. Use protection!

And I will just be here like I always am waiting for that call about the latest flavor of the week.

Bottom line.

I wish we could go back to third grade and you would push me on the swings. Before the girls thought you were cute and took you away from me.

Sincerely,

Your bestie for life. At least that's what you said I was.