Friends hurt you the Best

A small part of me dies whenever I see my former friends succeed. I feel so pathetic when I look up at them from my place of misery. But they can’t even see me. And they never really did.

It’s so easy to keep enemies away, but I never thought to protect myself from my friends until it was too late. I guess they don’t need my money anymore. They don’t need my time or my car or my cigarettes either.

But don’t they know I still need friends? I let them use me, and I gave them whatever they wanted. It was the price I was willing to pay to keep from being alone.

Now I’m back where I started. I’m alone, I’m vulnerable, and it hurts to smile anymore. I’m sinking back into the depression that always lingers with me.

I’m waiting. Part of me stays hopeful and waits for someone to care. But most of me just waits for the pain to end. I let the sorrow eat me up, until I no longer have control.

Being totally empty inside feels better than being full of pain.