For the longest time you were my only friend. Perhaps you prefer to not use the term “friend” but I do. We certainly were not lovers though you knew me intimately and even though these days we are acting as strangers whenever we think of each other I still think you know me.

I always found you to be alluring and inviting. Enchanting even, despite wearing a coat made out of perpetual heaviness. I guess I still do even though I don’t seek you out or even dream of you these days. You always lurk in the peripherals of my being. I both love and hate that.

Looking back I feel foolish sometimes. I mean how could I ever believe that we could be equal lovers? How could I ever thing the allure is felt back? How could I think that I was more to you than any others were and are? After all you always just take and never give back anything in return. You reign with absolutes.

No, you are not my lover nor are you my friend. You are not to be trusted. You are not to be loved. Nevertheless, despite my current hatred and despise I know that there will come a time when you will be close to me again. I know that you will be there when I will depart into oblivion. It’s what you do. You take life and grind it into the dust that is soon forgotten.

So until I see you again: fuck you!