Voicemail

Hi, it's me, obviously. Well, you didn't pick up your phone. I noticed that since it went to your voicemail. Lately that's all that happens when I call you. And when I text you, I don't recieve an answer back. Don't know what's up with you, and I don't really understand why my MySpace messages go unreplied (but read, of course). For some reason, I feel like right now is a good time to open your eyes to something I've noticed in the past year. For all I know, you might delete the message right now. But I ask that you don't, because you really need to hear what I have to say.

I remember the day you told me you got a boyfriend. Of course, it wasn't your first or your second or your fifth. But I was happy for you, because someone was making you as happy as you wanted to be. The first day I met him, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Oh, boy, was I wrong. He became everything in your life which, for me, was too much. I don't remember seeing you except for my surprise birthday party (which he was with you, of course. But you spent the whole damn time making out with him in my backyard) and my aunt's surprise birthday party (oh yeah, he was there, too).

Your quince is coming up; it's a big deal for you, I know. That's why when your mom called to ask if I wanted to dance in it, I did it. Not because I enjoy spending my Tuesday night's dancing with someone I don't know, but because I wanted to make you happy. That's all I ever tried to do. That's why when you spent your weekends with your boyfriend, I just shrugged it off. Beause I knew it made you happy to be with him. But what do you want to me to do? Say no? I'm not that shitty of a friend, am I? I never thought I was. So I said yes.

Of course, he was going to be your escort. How could I be so stupid to ask my mom who you were dancing with? There weren't any other guys for you to choose from, since you've spent over a year with him. It took you so long to realize how much of an idiot he was, how he could be the boyfriend that hit you, that made you promise not to break up with him or utter even the thought of a "break". I knew that all along but being a good friend would only make you hate me for the rest of our being. So when you finally broke up with him because he shackled you, I said, "Finally, I know who she is again." Nope, I was wrong.

You spent the next two weeks depressed, and then you considered getting back together with him. How ANGRY I got when I heard this is indescibable. Just the fact that you felt bad for him made me want to tear someone up limb from limb. You know that I've never been the violent kind. But all I was doing was looking out for you. You should've broken up with him over the summer when you told me that he didn't let you hang out with your guy friends. I told you to, but you didn't listen. Because after I turned ten, my words were useless. I just gave up on trying to help you.

I may not be the girl that has had ten boyfriends but I do know a little bit about life. I'm not my mother, or your mother, but I have learned some things along the way. So while you continue to mope about your ex after his sorry ass never deserved you in the first place, I'll be sitting here. Waiting for you to realize what I've known all along.

Call me back when you get that through your head.