You know, ever since your name came up at the beginning of the year, you’ve been lurking around like a vulture waiting to pick on something dead. I told you to never breathe in my direction again after the shit you pulled, and yet you’re still coming up. You have no clue how much people see through you, do you?
People that come from abuse, whether it’s verbal or physical, always say that they never notice what’s happening to them until it’s too late. It doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship at all; a platonic friendship with someone you think is supposed to be close to you can be even more toxic than those having to do with love. Even worse is when you hear the stories, you hear the rumors, and you’re told to stay far away from them, but because you want to give them a chance you start talking to them. Because you’re a good friend, you don’t listen to those other people. You get close to them in a way you think is unique to you two, and then you think back on how all of those people couldn’t possibly be talking about one of your best friends. All of them are wrong.
And then they aren’t.
You turn out to be exactly what everyone said you were.
In my case, I noticed what was happening around me. I noticed it long before it got ugly, and I just let it happen. I noticed when you used your mental illnesses as an excuse to how you behaved, I noticed when something you said didn’t quite add up to your actions, and I noticed when you would talk to people that were supposed to be close to you and then drag them through the mud whenever I was around to listen. I knew something was off by the way you would target your “closest friends” and tell me about how they made you miserable. How they did their everything to make your life a living Hell and to spite you, when really it was the other way around. I knew from the get-go that you liked to throw tantrums when you didn’t get your way but I had no clue that it was that bad. That you would go to any and all lengths to make sure whoever went against what you wanted paid for it, even for something minor. If you even had an inkling that they knew something was off, it was over with.
I definitely should have known when you stalked all of those people you had your doubts about and reported everything they did that you didn’t like to me. And you know what? I let it happen, and some part of me is always going to feel guilty because of it. I’m always going to feel guilty because if I had stood up and told you that you were wrong way before I did, then I wouldn’t have been as abused (yes, what you do it abuse) as I was and I wouldn’t have gotten the shit end of the stick when shit hit the fan.
Looking back at it, I’m kind of impressed by how well you were able to fabricate so many stories and kept them all linked together. You got so good at manipulating me — someone almost ten years your junior and still a teenager — that I didn’t think anything of it until after I started doing things you didn’t approve of. Once I slipped up and did something you didn’t like, it all went downhill for me and everyone around you. You got so good at recreating the big picture in front of you — carving, painting, and re-sculpting everything so perfectly that no one had any fucking idea.
Let me rephrase that.
There were people that had an idea, and encouraged it. Because you’re you. You know how to get people to think you’re innocent in everything when you’re really the mastermind behind everything. You know what I’m talking about.
After ranting and crying and seething about your supposed best friend for months, I finally did something. I had been telling you the same shit over and over again and you refused to listen. I told you repeatedly that you two just needed to stop being in contact with each other, I made that clear for months, but that wouldn’t have been fun for you would it? Both of us were pawns in your world, so you kept it going and going and going until someone snapped. You had the fucking nerve to come to me over something so fucking petty and stupid that I literally wanted nothing to do with it. But you knew how to pull me in. You knew I wouldn’t ignore you once you pulled out the, “I want to kill myself” card. “I want to kill myself, I feel so hurt and betrayed by her, she’s doing everything she can to ruin my life.”
Now that was a low blow. That was so fucking low of you. Because you had me trapped. You had me so convinced that your “best friend” was out to get you, but when I finally said I would talk to her, you know what she was doing?
She was crying. Not even crying, she was probably sobbing her eyes out.
I wanted to calm her down and see what was wrong. I wanted everything to stop so I could get her side of what happened, but because of you she refused to speak to me about it. You’re so disgusting to me. This is someone who had been with you for nearly ten years, had been with you through everything, and yet you were using her like this. And to make matters worse, you used a family death to your advantage and like an idiot I fucking fell for it. It’s hard to listen to the other person when you seem to know everything before it happens, you know? You would say, “She’s going to say this thing, don’t listen to her,” and lo and behold. She would say it, but you didn’t know that I knew you were full of shit. Here I go feeling guilty again because I kept playing your game.
You got another girl involved, too. Because you knew she was vicious, and you knew how she would react to me, and you knew she would defend you no matter what. You knew she would bully me into feeling afraid of talking to anyone about it. When I made an honest miswording, you told me that I nestled my way into your drama even though you forced me to listen to you for almost a year. You, or anyone that reads this that thinks they know what happened don’t know shit. The bottom line is, I tried to be a good friend to you in your time of need and you took advantage of that. After that nasty argument we had, I told you to never breathe in my direction again. And I meant that.
Thanks to you, most of my friendships were ruined because I couldn’t trust anyone. To this day, every time one of my friends reaches out to me because they want to die, because they’re depressed, because they need a word of comfort I have no clue how to help them anymore because my mind automatically goes back to all of those nights where you told me the exact same things and had me fooled for over a year. I felt weak. I felt unworthy of being around anyone. I felt like scum, and you laughed at that misery.
You’re abusive, you’re a bully, and you’re a lunatic. You set me up, and then spread lies about me to everyone within your radius just to feel better about yourself.
I hope you’re proud of yourself for what you’re capable of doing to some people. I hope you’re proud of the fact that the very mention of your name makes me want to vomit, and that it induces horrible anxiety attacks bad enough that medication can’t even handle it. I hope you’re proud that you’re a fucking psychopath and that I feel paranoid that you’re always watching me however you can because I know you weren’t satisfied with me telling you to get the hell out of my life. You always have to be watching so you know how to move your chess piece.
I hope your ego is big enough for someone to shoot you down hard enough that you feel all of the pain that I’ve felt over the past two years because of you. Me any everyone else you’ve dragged down.