Childish

We were twelve when you kissed me lovingly and backed me up to your bed, clothed hips grinding against clothed hips.

We were thirteen when she moved in down the street and started following you everywhere. But I was still the one you kissed. The one you explored when your mom wasn't looking.

Not that I minded.

We were fourteen when I found out the things you two were saying about me online. She's probably a dog fucking lesbian.

I punched you in the face and pinned you to the ground, tears in my eyes. She pulled me off of you. You raised your hands and told me to take a joke.

We were fifteen and still "playing pretend". It hurts to remember how well attuned your hips were to mine, your breath in my ear and your nails at my back.

I swear your mother saw us, once. A smile played on her lips as she closed your bedroom door softly.

We were seventeen when you came to me in tears every day about some new abusive behavior. I begged you to cut him off. I threatened to kill him. I took you out to Chinese to help distract you.

You let him crawl back every time.

We were twenty-two when you moved to New York. You called me every day to talk as you walked through the city. To tell me how much you miss me. How the dating apps you use are full of losers and guys who want to hook up.

I laughed and told you to be patient. To focus on you. But that wasn't your style.

You thrive on attention. And you always knew how to get it from me.

We were twenty-five and I was in a wedding dress standing before you. You were in tears, make up running in streaks down your face as you shriek about how happy you are and tell everyone you're "my best friend".

Yes, even now, it seems you consume my life. My most important days become about you.

And I let them. Though, truthfully, I couldn't tell you why I do it.

It makes me angry, if I'm being honest. I wasted so much time. Gave up so many moments so that you could stand in the spotlight.

I am nowhere near where I want to be in life, and that is not entirely your fault.

But you are what's keeping me here. Stuck in a past full of pain and longing. And I've come to realize that the only way out of this cycle is to bid you goodbye.

I don't need your friendship. I never did.