We’re a package deal, you’d say. We can’t be separated for on our own we are no better. I guess I never knew what you meant by that. I always thought that you wished for me to be as happy as you always were, as beautiful, as smart. It never dawned on me that you just thought that I made you look better, that standing next to second place made your gold appear shinier. There was so much I could’ve realized before I let you treat me like I was nothing. I would say your name, attempting to catch your attention. Screaming, yelling, and waving my arms, you still would look right into my eyes and see nothing but empty space before pretending like you heard nothing. I know that you can always hear me. My hands grip so hard to the ends of my skirt so I don’t reach up and grab your shoulders to shake the rational human out of you.

If I had the heart to say anything to you, my so-called “best friend,” maybe you could finally see everything that you’ve done to tear my heart out of my chest, play with it until you got bored, and crush it under the heel of your fiery cherry stiletto.

Funny, the devil wears Prada, too.

First of all, that smile that you forced whenever you talked to my parents was never real, and they knew it. They saw right through your little game, and hell, I should have to. Every time they tried to keep me away from you I would run back, remembering that you would make me laugh every once in a while against the thousands you made me sob and that you could make me feel popular. I can’t believe I ever gave you a second chance. And a third chance, and a fourth, and a fifth.. Whatever you were doing with my mind was definitely working, I’ll tell you that, but I grew wiser and you grew hungrier. Hungrier to make yourself look better and to become friends with girls that would ultimately hurt you and do you wrong. Maybe I’m a nerd, maybe I’m lame, but you absolutely cannot make it my fault that you ditched me. I stopped following you like your minion by my own power, started splitting away from the bond that we had, cutting the strings and breaking free. If there is anything I wish, it is that you realize who was there for you when your boyfriend broke up with you and when your parents fought. Now, whenever you come near me, I turn the other direction and try to pick up the pieces of myself that I lost when you told me that I needed you. That I couldn’t be anything without you. I am fine on my own, I assure you that you can stop “worrying” about me.

You were so impossibly wrong... so incredibly blind and jealous to hide me away from all of the opportunities that I could have had. I guess that behind all of this intense anger I have towards you, I feel sorry. Someone that obsessed with becoming the it-girl is going to waste so many years of their life trying to reach a goal that will make them unhappy in the end. Whatever happened to make you like this must have been tough, and I want you to know that once I am completely free from the friendship that I thought we once had, maybe you can use that feeling to find something that truly does make you feel joyful about who you are without the popularity. Then, you can come find me. I can tell you about the pain I felt when I cared too much about someone who barely even thought of me as a real person. And I’ll bet that you would love to hear my stories of when I cried myself to sleep and got mascara all over my pillows because of how someone treated me.

I don’t mean to be disrespectful if I ever told you to stop talking. Excuse me for being a little offended of you talking about your fantastic outings with our MUTUAL friends directly to my face and adding, “you should have joined!” Thank you so so much for the invite, but I'm sorry I couldn't come? I love how that always seems to be your go-to line after you know that I’ve been home alone and I sure as hell know that you’ve been out with them because of your 10,000 “mass” Snapchats that you sent. I’m so done feeling bad for myself because of the things that you have said to me, sent to me, said about me. I know that you love your new friends and are obsessed with having something over me, but give it a break. Please, you’ll ware yourself out and lose sight of the bigger picture if you keep on making it a point to ruin my life.

So, I know that this may not change things, and actually I haven’t decided if I want to tell you the truth at all. Despite the fact that you’ll never get my trust again, maybe one day you will realize that you did wrong to me.

And for the hopefully new person who reads this years from now,

I forgive you.