I’ve never been in a relationship.
I’ve never held another person’s hand
tightly in my own as we strolled down
a path with our fingers and souls entwined.
I’ve never dealt with a break-up in the
traditional version of the word.
But I’ve felt like
eating tub after tub
of vanilla ice cream
after my first group of friends left.
I just wanted to curl up
underneath countless blankets
in a dark fortress
for the rest of my life.
And I felt hot, passionate anger
when the second group
decided I wasn’t worthy.
I knew I was the one
who sent the fatal text
and felt an endless cycle of guilt.
But I still ultimately blamed them
and the drawing of our group
that didn’t have me in it.
Now I’m the one who
severed the ties.
I left and said you weren’t worthy.
Part of me knows
that friendship is never simple.
I might have been the one
to hit send and block,
but you were the one still
treating me like the child I was
when we first met years ago.