I’m a horrible friend. I only want your friendship for your kind words so that I can feel affirmed. I only want your friendship for your favors so that I can do less work or spend less money. I only want your friendship for those one-sided conversations that make me feel less lonely as I completely neglect your goings-on.
I’m a horrible friend. I hate texting you and calling you and otherwise trying to squeeze you into my weekly self-absorbed schedule. I’ve ignored your texts and calls and bothersome voicemails. I only want your friendship when it’s convenient, which might be once a week or once a month or maybe even once a year.
I’m a horrible friend. I forget your birthday and I forget your special event you kept bubbling about and I forget to pray for your personal thing I promised I’d be praying about. Additionally, I get really upset and angry when you forget about me and my many ongoing issues.
I’m a horrible friend. I’d rather not get involved with your messy life because my own life is messy enough for me to handle. I’m an introvert, after all, so I can only take so much of you. My innate introversion is always my excuse to distance myself.
I’m a horrible friend. I don’t know how to fix any of your problems, so I’d rather just ignore you and ignore them and pretend none of it exists. Our friendship is just so much easier that way, don’t you agree?
I’m a horrible friend. I judge you for all your questionable decisions because I’m quite certain I’d never make those same mistakes. I’m stronger and wiser and better than you, and you should follow my example some time.
I’m a horrible friend. I’ve abandoned you before you could abandon me. I’ve assumed the worst in you. I’ve felt sure you’d be an awful person.
I’m a horrible friend. If I’d been there for you, none of this mess would have happened. Instead, I fled. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take you. When you needed me most, I was nowhere to be found.
I’m a horrible friend. Looking back on my fault-ridden life, I know this to be true.
I’m a horrible friend. And I’m so sorry. More than anything, I don’t want this to be my legacy.