Homie that i couldn’t have asked for!

 You told me you were my friend—not just a friend, but my best friend. You said we were homies. But when your homie was homeless and you had a home, you let them stay homeless for weeks.


You promised to be by my side no matter what. Yet, I’ve found myself eating dinner alone every day while you hung out with the same people you once called snakes.


You said it was okay to joke around with me in front of everyone, but I’ve seen you mock me in ways that didn’t feel like jokes—especially in front of those so-called friends of ours.


You told me you had my back, always. But I’ve watched you smirk every time the teachers said something that cut straight to my heart.


You promised never to hurt me intentionally, yet you laughed when I was at my lowest. You made jokes about my insecurities—the ones I trusted only you with. You made me feel safe enough to share things I would have otherwise taken to my grave. I trusted you with those secrets, but now I feel like I’m just a puppet for your amusement.


When someone tells you their friends are nothing more than entertainment, how do you believe them when they say you’re different? How do I know I’m not just another source of entertainment for you?


I’m not saying you aren’t my friend—you are. And I’m sure you see me as your friend too. But do you really? Do you truly consider me a friend? If this is what friendship means to you, I can only hope someday you get a friend like yourself.


I know you’ve done good things for me. I know you’ve been there for me, and I’m grateful for that. But those moments of cruelty, intentional or not—they make me question everything. Were they just slips, or were they glimpses of who you really are?


It makes me doubt my faith in you. More in myself than you.

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