a letter to a past friend
i remember my friend john - whom i have kept in low consideration for some years, but who has ever been a friend (i actually learn from my mistakes) -asking me once how did i manage, during high school, to have a girlfriend for so long and still be able to spend so many time with my friends, my fellows. i told him it wasn't really hard, it was merely a matter of will. i had a girlfriend, all right, but my friends were still my friends, and so i had to put some effort in getting time for everyone.
four years have passed, and i wish i could say the same about you. you, who I called my best friend for so long. you, with whom i shared so many moments, so many things. you, whom i used to trust more than everyone else. the thing is, i can't. we've been living together since we came to this city, and what moments have we shared? we went out together a couple of times during the first months, but then you met her - which is nonetheless a very nice girl (for the record, you're a lucky son of a bitch who actually got more than you deserved, but that's merely my humble opinion...) - and you forgot you had friends. you forgot about me. great timing - it happened exactly when i needed you the most. but you couldn't know, could you? you were living so deep inside your shiny bubble that you, all of a sudden, became oblivious to everything else.
when did you came back? oh, that's right, in that july morning. we were looking for a new place to live - well, i was looking, because you never lived there anyway - and you called me in the morning to meet you, so we could see, hopefully, our new house. i had gone out the night before, had got drunk as hell, and was in bed with one of the worse hang overs i've ever had. i could have turned you down, you know? i could have said "sorry, mate, i'm not up to get up right now, you do whatever you want to do, i'm going to live with my sister". but instead i got up, took a quick shower, two pills for the headache and went out. to meet you. and by doing it, i allowed you to officially live with your girlfriend, since i didn't mind sharing a house with you both. had i stood in bed and perhaps you both weren't still living together now. who knows?
and what you did in return? once you had what you wanted, you forgot again about me. it's funny to think about it - since we live together along with your girlfriend, she cares more about me than you actually do. i remember, for example, being her who asked me what was wrong when i broke up with my girl. where were you then? nowhere to be found, as ever. also, your girlfriend is much more honest than you - she has no problem staring into my eyes and yelling at me if i fail doing something around the house (which happens quite often, i'm aware that i'm far from being the perfect housemate). unlike you, for when you have something to say, even if you're totally right, you say it with half words while you're doing something else - and you never, ever look at me while doing it. as if you feared me.
it's a sad story, and could get much longer if only i had the time and the patience to keep writing. it's not over yet, but i think i know how it will end. one day i will eventually leave, finishing the cycle - and when i close the outside door for the very last time, you, who once have been my best friend, but as the time went by became merely a housemate, will be nothing but someone i used to know, someone who was a part of my past, but who belongs there for good. and from my part, when that time comes, when i close that god damned door for the very last time, no more words will be said between me and you, old friend. but hey, you will never know this, will you? you never had any real interested in anything i've ever written...
four years have passed, and i wish i could say the same about you. you, who I called my best friend for so long. you, with whom i shared so many moments, so many things. you, whom i used to trust more than everyone else. the thing is, i can't. we've been living together since we came to this city, and what moments have we shared? we went out together a couple of times during the first months, but then you met her - which is nonetheless a very nice girl (for the record, you're a lucky son of a bitch who actually got more than you deserved, but that's merely my humble opinion...) - and you forgot you had friends. you forgot about me. great timing - it happened exactly when i needed you the most. but you couldn't know, could you? you were living so deep inside your shiny bubble that you, all of a sudden, became oblivious to everything else.
when did you came back? oh, that's right, in that july morning. we were looking for a new place to live - well, i was looking, because you never lived there anyway - and you called me in the morning to meet you, so we could see, hopefully, our new house. i had gone out the night before, had got drunk as hell, and was in bed with one of the worse hang overs i've ever had. i could have turned you down, you know? i could have said "sorry, mate, i'm not up to get up right now, you do whatever you want to do, i'm going to live with my sister". but instead i got up, took a quick shower, two pills for the headache and went out. to meet you. and by doing it, i allowed you to officially live with your girlfriend, since i didn't mind sharing a house with you both. had i stood in bed and perhaps you both weren't still living together now. who knows?
and what you did in return? once you had what you wanted, you forgot again about me. it's funny to think about it - since we live together along with your girlfriend, she cares more about me than you actually do. i remember, for example, being her who asked me what was wrong when i broke up with my girl. where were you then? nowhere to be found, as ever. also, your girlfriend is much more honest than you - she has no problem staring into my eyes and yelling at me if i fail doing something around the house (which happens quite often, i'm aware that i'm far from being the perfect housemate). unlike you, for when you have something to say, even if you're totally right, you say it with half words while you're doing something else - and you never, ever look at me while doing it. as if you feared me.
it's a sad story, and could get much longer if only i had the time and the patience to keep writing. it's not over yet, but i think i know how it will end. one day i will eventually leave, finishing the cycle - and when i close the outside door for the very last time, you, who once have been my best friend, but as the time went by became merely a housemate, will be nothing but someone i used to know, someone who was a part of my past, but who belongs there for good. and from my part, when that time comes, when i close that god damned door for the very last time, no more words will be said between me and you, old friend. but hey, you will never know this, will you? you never had any real interested in anything i've ever written...
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