Letter

Dear ****,

I am not now, nor will I ever be okay with your friendship with *******. I understand you've been friends since kindergarten. I understand you've been there for each other through everything. I have a friend like that. Gender has nothing to do with it.

Fact of the matter is, you made out with her. I don't care that she kissed you. You didn't stop. You didn't say no. And your only excuse was that you were drinking. The thing about drinking is yes, it lowers inhibitions, and makes you do the things you wouldn't normally do. But the thing is, you only do those things when you want to do them sober, but have the self-restraint not to. I would never have cheated on you when drunk, because I have absolutely no desire to when I'm sober, thus no desire when drunk. The fact that you did that when drunk only leads me to believe you'd been wanting to while sober.

So you two worked out that you love each other in a sibling-familial way. That's great. I'm glad you have a friend that you can be close to. But still, I'm not okay with it. She makes you laugh. You worry about her. You hold her when she's wobbly. She gets to see you when you're having a good time, and you shut me out of that part of your life entirely. I'm jealous, plain and simple.

I'll never tell you not to see her. I'll never tell you to stop talking to her. I'll also never stop hating her. I'll never stop blaming her for what she did to you, to us. I know its unhealthy, but I feel that I can't help it.

So even though I'm willing to work on our relationship rather than leaving you for good, I'm always going to want to strangle her. I'm always going to want to hit you when I see pictures of you two together, doing things with you, when I'm blatantly not invited, told that I would never be allowed to come along.

Don't expect me to ever extend a hand of friendship to her. If I see her, I'll never even so much as look at her nicely. Know that while I may have my arms crossed, all I want to do is reach over and slap the shit out of her. I'm by no means a violent person, but the emotion that I feel in this circumstance makes me feel as if my body would move on its own volition. I can never be nice to her. I'll never have anything nice to say about her. Sentences including her will always be punctuated with "whore" and "slut". And I'm not sorry.

Expecting me to let it go is stupid. And while I'm willing to be stupid and forgive you, I'll never forget.

Yours,
*****