This is a warning for those who dislike rants. GET OUT NOW.
STOP READING. I’m serious (lol)! Fine. But you insisted! Okay! Okay! I’ll hurry up. Gods.
So, I had an amazing afternoon. I had a party (a Bar Mitzvah, actually), and I met up with some old friends. Woohoo! After that, I came home, and my friend who is in my class texts me, ‘what is our test on’.
She never texts me for anything else, only homework, so I text her back, ‘is the only reason you text me to find out what homework we have?’
((Please note the grammar differences. Nah, I’m just yanking your wand.))
Guess what she responds.
I suppose I might as tell you guys.
‘yeah’.
That’s what she wrote.
I exploded. I felt so hurt! Our friendship was fake. Faker than my fake name, Abigail.
So now, I finally knew. Most of my friends just talk to me because of my intelligence. Because I listen in class, and I’m [pretty] organised.
Just like an agenda.
So, so-called friend, if you’re reading this, you know who you are. Now you know how I feel. And I think you might have just ruined our ‘friendship‘, if being used is called ‘friendship’. ((Please excuse the drama. :3))
So-called friend, because saying the right name of someone online is illegal, I’m just going to call you READER. Because you use me, you read me as if I was an agenda.
Don’t write on me. Don’t read me. Don’t use me, READER.
For those who have not noticed, this is the second time that I was used. Slash first, because the other time, I actually knew about it.
And I’m taking it very badly, I know.
P.S. For those who are curious about the first time, this is my story:
One of my best friends (let’s call her Bob) was best friends with another girl (let’s call her Gindo), which I hated. She hated me as well, and it was a well known fact. My best friend, Bob, knew it too, and she was desperate. Why couldn’t we just make up and be friends? (I don’t know, ask Gindo.)
But then, Gindo and I had an idea.
We would try and be good friends, for out dear Bob’s sake. She had (and still does, by the way) a crush on a boy, which both of her friends disapproved of. So, we would say that we need to work on a plan, which is what she thought of how we could make her see sense. Actually, the plan was how to show her that we were good friends, to make her happy, so all three of us could get what we wanted.
We nearly got it through the whole year.
But I couldn’t take it. I had a mental breakdown, and I ran away from my friends. They chased me around the school.
Finally, when I had calmed down, I asked my partner-in-crime if she had told Bob the real plan. Of course, she hadn’t, so we told her.
“We were using each other to get to you.”
