This letter will be a departure from the light-heartedness of my previous letters. I dated two guys in high school. One treated me like a queen. This letter is for the other one.
You were my first romance. We were friends, and stayed friends throughout our time dating. Things change, and we went our separate ways, yet remained good friends. Then came our senior year in high school, and you wanted to rekindle our relationship. And I thought to myself it would be fine, because we were still friends. And like a fool, I believed you when you told me that helping you in English was just a way for us to spend time together.
I was blind to the signs. You couldn’t go out at night, because your grades needed to improve, so you couldn’t go out on dates with me, but you could hang out with your friends in football and band. You couldn’t see me on the weekends, but you could go to practice and then out for a bite to eat with friends. You couldn’t sit with me in the classes we had together, but you could sit with your football buddies, the same ones who thought I was a geek and a prude.
And then came the coup de grace: Valentine’s Day, and the Sweetheart Dance. I went to three different stores to find the perfect card for you, and when I gave it to you, you said thanks, and stuck it in a history book. I had waited all week for you to call me for a time to pick me up for the dance. And the day of the dance as I asked you to walk me to my locker, I asked jokingly if you had a date. And you said you did. In a haze, I walked, and managed to ask who she was. And when you told me her name, all the clues finally fell into place. Meekly, I wished that you would have a good time, and you left me standing there. My shock cushioned me for all of five minutes, until you sent a mutual friend to inform me, as kindly as he could, that you were breaking up with me.
You were despicable for using a mutual friend like that. You were a coward for not having the guts to tell me you were done with me because I wouldn’t sleep with you. You were a liar, because you couldn’t just ask me to help you with your class, thinking you had to pretend to “like” me again to get ahead. But worst of all, you were weak, because you believed your football friends over me, a friend that had stuck with you since 6th grade, and someone who had helped you through really bad times.
You did me a great favor. I no longer take things at face value. I have a wonderful life, and I’m very happy, and I sincerely hope you are, too. I hope you learned the value of a friend, since your selfishness cost you not just my friendship, but our mutual friend’s as well.