A Note to My Lost Friends

I hate losing friends, but I can’t help it most times.

Like cotton wool stuck onto the end of a broom, I hold my friends to my heart dearly.

To all my lost friends, I want you to know that it still hurts and I still love you, but I understand.

People change, and so did you all, or maybe it was me.

I’m very understanding, and most of you forget that this trait doesn’t make me less human than you.

So, when I get angry at you for your screw up, you get mad at me for getting angry.

I must always be the sane one, but sometimes you were the trigger that made me insane.

I’m sorry for failing you friend but while I kept holding onto your hand why didn’t you hold onto mine?

It takes two to tango, but in most of my failed friendships, I was a solo dancer.

I checked on you, called, came over, cared, and helped, but you never did that for me.

Why?

They always told me they know I’m fine.

So, most times, it was always assumptions that I’m okay.

That is why someone said, “We live in a generation where friends can notice fake shoes and clothes more than they can see a depressed friend.”

What is done is done, but I hope I left you better than when we met.

If I did, then my job was done, and if I didn’t, I’m sorry for failing you once again.

I want you to be safe, I want you to live your best life, but most importantly I want you to treat your next friend better than you did me.

Don’t just be a friend when I tell others you’re my friend, be a friend when I’m in the dark, and nobody’s there.

To all my lost friends, I wish you well.

'Til our paths cross again, FAREWELL.