Cretin

This last month has been a month of denial, and a month of hope. I kept denying that you would ever treat me so awfully, and that you wouldn't leave me behind like I never mattered to you. I kept hoping that you just needed time, and would eventually come back to me. Took me a month to realize that you are never coming back, and probably always intended it to be that way. You never had any intention of being my friend once you were done with me, regardless of the five years of friendship that preceded this fucked up mess.

So this next month is my month of letting you go. I'll do whatever it takes, writing anguished poetry, angry letters, the commemoration I know I couldn't move on without making, dancing in the rain, screaming at the top of my lungs in the mountains, disassociating myself from you, making a point of letting your importance drain away, whatever, to let you go. I can't continue to let this weigh on me like it does. I can't let myself continue to be wrecked by you, especially if you really have left me behind without a care.

I'm moving on, I'm letting you go.

So goodbye Cretin, I really wish you had proved yourself to more than your namesake.