Midnight Reflections

I have yet to cross paths with you to which I am most grateful for. You live down the street and I still haven’t seen you since freshman year. The same year you ruined our friendship forever.

But that’s not fair to say to you. What’s fair to say is you ruined us before we even started. 

I knew the second I read your name on those miniature desks in our fifth grade classroom you’d either be my greatest treasure or an iceberg to my great ship. On the contrary. I was entirely wrong. You somehow managed to be both. 

That’s so like you, now that I look back at it. You were always peculiar in that way. A broad mindset, open heart, and chiseled chin left me easily enamored by your aura. 

I never called it what it was. I never spotted what exactly it was that I felt for you; I simply let it come naturally. I protected you, shielded you, and fought for you. We were drawn towards each other but I had my reasons. I later found out yours. 

You needed somebody to cling onto, someone to help you find your way. You needed that in order to destroy them for your own selfish reasons. I was simply exhibit A. What a coincidence, right? Of course I was exhibit A. 

Over the years, I slowly realized what was going on. You were so god damn envious of what I had that you never saw what you had. I was in love with you. I think you know that. I would’ve done anything for you. I would’ve destroyed my own life for you and that’s exactly what I did. 

If you had only seen yourself through my eyes you would’ve realized the beauty you had outside your heart. I knew you well but you knew me most. Hell, you knew me before I even had glasses. With and without, I recognized your beauty but you only saw mine.

Your envy is what tortured us. You should know that. I think you do know that you just don’t like to apologize for it. How we ended was never my fault and any problem we had was always a storm you created. I was never to blame for the bolts you sent running through my electric chair.

You held me captive and knew I loved you more than anything whether it be platonically or any form of love fathomable. So I stayed. I stayed through all of your fuck ups and you couldn’t bare staying with me through mine. 

Any pain I inflicted was never intentional but you could never say the same thing. We went into middle school together with a love grown so tall not even Jack could climb our beanstalk. 

I was twelve. 

I was twelve when I started dating that ugly little boy that you decided to get involved with when we were eight months together. I never understood why you did it. Yes, I know we’re nineteen now but that was the beginning of a tragic ending. 

Why did you have to go and fuck us all up? I adored you. I loved you so much I wasn’t even mad at him for cheating. I felt the most betrayal from you. Not because you were my best friend but because I really really loved you. Even then, I still couldn’t help but love you. 

I trusted you with my soul. You promised loyalty and handed it over to a boy I would have never chosen over you. 

I had a feeling you were going to betray me this way, but I doubted it. You betrayed me for a simple five minutes of attention that I would’ve gladly given you for eternity. He could have never offered you or me anything that I wouldn’t have died to give you. 

I would have loved you for a lifetime and he wanted to fuck you for a week. The things he said about me, the way he compared us was something I never dared to think about. The body he praised over mine was what my eyes saw as a sacred temple but you would’ve never known because you desperately needed male attention. 

You were fine with disrespecting me if it meant people wanted you more. You saw a skinny, pale, bubbly girl and equalized it to competition. I was never your competition and til this day I have yet to understand why you saw it that way. 

Was it because the following year, seventh grade, I dated your ex-boyfriend? The one you didn’t love? The one you didn’t even like and pitied? The one that also ruined us? 

I’ve skipped too far ahead. Let me walk you through my point of view and refresh your memory of our tragic story.

I yelled at you, cussed at you, and wanted so badly to beat you to the ground til you begged for mercy. I didn’t want to do that over a boy, I wanted to do it because you left me no choice but to leave you. I didn’t want to leave you. I still loved you. 

I wasn’t angry at what you did, I was angry at what I had to do next. 

I didn’t lay a finger on you though. I couldn’t. I loved you too much to hurt you and I protected you from others for so long that not even I could touch you. 

Your envy of wanting every single thing I had was what really destroyed us. It wasn’t the models we loved to admire, our friends, or the boys. It was always you. You did this to us. We could have been eternal. We could have had it all. 

After the scandal, I missed you so deeply. It ate me up knowing you were down the street, in my classes, and sharing my air. I needed you back in my life but I needed you to crawl back yourself. 

Summer going into seventh grade, we talked briefly but took it slow. 

I heard in athletics class you had a boyfriend and my heart ached. I don’t know if it was the pain of knowing you were somebody else’s or the jealousy that you were somebody else’s and no longer mine to keep. 

I knew then I had to scope out if it was a serious relationship. I approached you and told you I heard you had a boyfriend and that I wanted to meet him to see if he was a perfect fit for you. 

After athletics class you lead me to the greatest mistake of my life. As we opened the doors to the foyer we were met with your boyfriend, Peter. I stared disgustingly. He wasn’t perfect for you. I was. I didn’t like him for you. He was immature, ugly, and not your type.

Was it my jealousy? Was what I was feeling platonic? Or was the universe trying to telling me something?

I’ll never know.

I remember getting introduced and telling you to his face that you could do better and walked away. It was rude of me but you knew how blunt and brutally honestly I was and am. 

He didn’t care though. 

After that, I somehow managed to forgive you for what you did the previous year and we once again become the greatest of friends. 

Your relationship with Peter kick started a new era for us. You never had a boyfriend before and you also didn’t seem to know how to interact with him. 

I knew immediately you never wanted to be with him. It was pity. I knew you so well. 

I hated him. He was so god damn annoying. The only thing we had in common was our obsession with you and need of your presence. Why did I have to share what had always been mine? Especially with a hob knocker that didn’t know you as well as I did. 

You never even talked to the guy. Every lunch hour you made me sit in between you two. What the fuck was that? I tried getting you to talk to him. The guy only wanted a simple conversation out of you and you could never give it to him. 

You also couldn’t text him because you had strict parents that watched your messages like the monkey from Toy Story 2. 

It wasn’t a real relationship and we both knew this. 

Somehow, for some weird reason, I got Peter’s number and he got mine. I’m going to say this now, I was always so loyal to you. Revenge is something I commit to but it never crossed my mind with you. 

Though I despised him so much, Peter and I would often play Imessage games. We were two great listeners who enjoyed spending our time after school playing 8ball and talking about you. Anytime we talked it was always about you. If not you, then my boy problems. We were loyal to you. 

Through my phone you’d text him when I’d come over to your house and you obviously know this. 

Six months into your relationship with Peter you confessed you never had feelings for him and you were with him out of pity. I called it. I already knew this. 

By that time, I had already began to grow a nice, friendly relationship with Peter. He was a good friend, treated you well, and was somewhat warming up to me. He would let me stalk my favorite band on his twitter so I guess he was cool. 

I told you to tell him and that he deserved to know. You were scared. I gave you two months to air it out. 

I wonder if you remember the time he made me cry in the girls bathroom because he tried giving me advice and failed miserably. You know me and my anger. I bawled my eyes out to you during lunch in the bathroom and told you to break his bitch ass heart. 

I said he was somewhat warming up to me, not entirely. Either way, he apologized and was very genuine about it so I forgave him. I know you remember this. 

We became cool again and he started noticing you drifting away even more. I had to reassure him he was delusional knowing damn well you did not want his ass. 

I did feel bad at the time. I knew he really liked you and he was my good friend at the time but there wasn’t much I could tell the kid. 

Slowly but surely, I started falling for him. I never admitted it to myself. I think you know that story. I really wanted you to leave him because I loved you and started loving him. I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I forced my feelings aside because I was so very loyal to you. 

I started distancing myself from him and he noticed to which he called me out on. I couldn’t hide. He was suspicious. I needed you to leave him so I could leave him too. 

But you convinced me to break up with him for you. It was sooo middle school of us. Unfortunately for him, I broke up with him for you through text while he was dining at a restaurant with his family, leaving him to run to the bathroom to cry. 

Two months before that incident I would’ve died laughing but since I had fallen for him, I felt so bad. At that moment I knew I fucked up because I wasn’t leaving. I was still there, comforting him. I had actually begun caring for him and started making you feel bad for ‘using’ him. 

You were upset with me. I knew this. I still couldn’t help it though. He was nice, good to you, loyal, admirable, and smart. I was thirteen so obviously I developed feelings. No other boy in our grade was quite like him. He was an opportunity I, sadly, couldn’t pass. You knew I had bad luck with boys.

You held a grudge against me for it. You know the rest of the story. I needed to jog your memory up a bit so that you got slapped harder with the reality of our situation.

I never once betrayed you with Peter. You couldn’t get over that. You left me. You cheated on me with the girl you told me not to worry about and even though our friendship remained platonic through all of our years as best friends I will always consider what you did cheating. 

You knew what you were doing, creating an army against Peter and I for being together.

You got what you wanted because you know exactly how Peter and I ended. Karma struck the wrong person. I did nothing wrong being with Peter, the only wrong I did was doing that to myself. 

I never betrayed you, I never meant to hurt you, and I never did it to avenge myself. You knew so good and well that I did it out of love because I genuinely cared for him and loved him. Our chemistry was something I didn’t know I would ever feel again. I was a kid. I stupidly thought it was a perfect match. 

My love for him wasn’t to spite you or ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to choose but you left me no choice. If we were going to talk about betrayal, you could have at least let me mention what you did to me first. 

This is merely where the plot thickens, this isn’t even the end of our story. 

Freshman year rolled around and that’s when we were so fucking done. You ditched me. You played me. You left me. We ended on your terms, not mine. If we had it my way you’d still be here in my life but things got ugly and you couldn’t handle it. 

So it wasn’t the friends, betrayal, or the boys. It was always you. It still remains you. You continue betraying me til this day. I saw who you were following, nice to know you can forgive Peter and not me, especially knowing how much you expressed in grave detail the burning hatred you had for him. You know exactly what he did to me, you were there with me when I was in total agony.

Yet, you still continue being friends with those who ended me, including yourself. I hope you’re so happy with the new male attention you have that looks exactly like the boy that ruined us last. Maybe it ignites something in you being with a boy that resembles the boy that slaughtered my soul. 

We were supposed to live together, marry best friends, have kids together, and grow old with every disagreement we had. You were supposed to be my maid of honor. You took the greatest friendship story away from me. We could’ve been so perfect together. I understood you and you understood me. 

All I wanted was for you to fight for me the way I signed peace treaties for you. I vowed to part the red sea, walk on water and build cathedrals for you. I would’ve dedicated eternity being Shah Jahan and you my Mumtaz Muhal. All of this just to beg for you to simply be a Gracie Abrams. A simple ‘I love you, i’m sorry’ or an ‘I miss you, i’m sorry.’

Remember this story every time you wonder what went wrong or tell others about the horrible friend you made back in fifth grade.

And if you find a man who vows to you in sickness and in health, it will be no greater love than mine. I wish you and him well and hope you read this and say to yourself ‘wow great message.’ 

To: Doe Peralta 

From: A