I don’t like you because you manipulated me.
You pretended to be my friend and I opened up to you. I told you things I didn’t tell anyone else, I let you see things in me not even those closest to me saw.
And all the while you were just gathering information. You were just manipulating me. Pretending to be my friend in order to control me.
You knew my weaknesses and you used that against me. You knew how desperate I was for love and you were always especially kind to me.
You used me to get closer to my friend. You got closer to the two of us and then isolated her.
You pretended to want to be my friend, you faked being someone else, you played the part you knew would appeal the most to my eyes. You took advantage of my insecurities, you predated upon my flaws and weaknesses to get what you wanted. As if I were nothing.
I felt you were manipulating me, but I was weaker still and didn’t want to believe it, I didn’t want to see it. So I told you not to manipulate me, and you looked at me and said you didn’t do that to friends.
You were very important to me, I believed in what you used to say and I learned values when I didn’t get along with my father. Values you never put to practice.
You took advantage of my impulse to help and protect, to care for and care about, to listen and embrace to get what you wanted. You took advantage of my fear of rejection, of my insecurity to make me make choices I did not want to.
Friends don’t do emotional blackmail nor use the other’s fear of rejection and desire to be loved. You used all this to turn me against my own principles.
I will never forgive myself for turning my back on him.
What lets me live a little with these facts, with the knowledge that you manipulated me and I allowed you to, is that, when you most expected that I was going to buckle under your emotional pressure, when you thought I was going to talk to her because otherwise you’d be sad, even if it was against everything you used to say, I didn’t give in. I remembered him, and all the others that suffered because of the same reason, and I told you no. I had the guts to say no, what can we do, it’s the way things are. What lets me think I’m not as ridiculously weak and naïve and gullible like that is knowing that in the moment I, with my will to care, embrace, listen, protect and hear, with my own shy and insecure way, had the courage to speak what I thought that should be spoken and said no.
I never want to look upon your face again.