Dear Lost Friend,

Dear Lost Friend,

The one who is so consumed in addiction that it's eating your soul. I am sorry and sad at the same time. You have literally said your final goodbye's as you slip further into the land that has pulled you into the deep abyss.

I am sorry that I couldn't be there like a friend should, you know the days where I would tell you that one day into your sobriety was good enough, and that you needed to keep going, that it was healthy for you to get out of it. I am sorry that I had fed into it, but I guess that's what healthy friends do right? They want to see their best friend come out of the dark cave and into the light, feeding you nothing but warmth and light. Give you warmth like your addiction does, but in a way it covers you like a warm blanket on a cold day, the blanket of acceptance. That in which was free. But you would rather spend your hard earned cash on something that would make you throw up the next day. It's not pretty, and well, to be brutally honest neither are you.

I am sad that it has consumed you in a way that I will never get you back. You would rather hang out with people who would rather enable you or to do these things, they aren't really there for you, they don't want to be. They are only there so they are not alone in their own crap, so that they drag you down with them, and well, it's working. I see that. I see that you would rather them drag you in the dirt, only to trap you into a hole that you have dug for yourself. Almost like they were prepping you to be burried, in a grave, where they won't attend. Well, because you never truly mattered to them.

I am sorry lost friend, but you also had lost me. So many sad attempts to get you back to where you should be. Praised for the small successes, loved and cherished for who you were sober, nothing but empathy for you through traumas. At the end of the day, you lost. There was no win. No win for anyone for that matter. You mattered, mattered enough for the simple waiting for you hand and foot, while my time was dwindling away, wasting every moment of my life that could've been spent somewhere else.

I cannot hear your pleas for help anymore, as they are a faint whisper in the wind. I have chosen to move on from the lost friend. I am no longer lost myself. I must carry on now, and so should you. Heartbreaking? It is, but you will get over it, like the addiction got over you.

I can no longer save you from drowning, as you were pulling me down with you. That I cannot do to myself, as I have ambitions and goals to aquire, and I am not getting any younger. I am not sorry anymore for not texting you back or returning your phone calls, how dare you speak to me in anger, when I am spending my valuable time with family and friends (whom actually care about me as a person). That is not my "beef". You want to call me now when you're life is falling to pieces? How many times had I reached out to you, and you were "So busy?" where were you? No where, and that is where I will be from now on. No where, no where to be found, in your heart, my heart, social media. No where. To you I had never exsisted.

And from now on, you don't exsist to me.

Farewell, lost friend.

-M-