Dear Anonymous, Remember when we were friends? I remember. I remember how you were when I first met you...so bitter...going nowhere in life. Depressed, melancholy. I tried to help, I really did. And for a while, everything seemed okay. You seemed more cheerful. Happier. Ready to do something...anything. But then things started to go wrong again. I don't know you well enough but you know the specifics. And then when things settled down again, life got busy. I got busy. We drifted apart. But you stayed my friend and I stayed yours. I'd occasionally wonder how you were and I never forgot. And then that day... I hated how you had begun to sink into a depression again, how you threw yourself down for the sake of others, how you based your life around others' opinions. I probably shouldn't have cared that much--after all, in a way I barely knew you--but I did care. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did. Maybe it was because in my mind, you were my friend. Maybe it's because I'd been there before...I'd tried to please everyone and in the end, when everyone left, I was just there...feeling empty. Maybe I didn't want you to go through that as well, to become the girl who did everything and felt like nothing. So I got angry. I was desperate. I tried so hard to tell you that I cared about what happened to you and that I wanted you to be happy. I tried so hard to tell you that you needed to get a grip and stop molding yourself to fit other people. Because I don't want you to be someone I like, I want you to be you. That would've been enough. But you took my anger the wrong way. Our friendship ended that way. Yet, I don't regret what I said. I don't take those words back because I meant them and I would still say them again if I got to choose again. I don't want you to feel empty, like what you're doing is meaningless. Maybe once, I was good at giving advice. Maybe once, I was good at making people feel better about themselves. Maybe I still could be. But inside, I feel that those days are gone. I never did give good advice. Someone once told me never to say I was good at advising others. For a while, I thought he was scoffing at the idea that someone my age could be "wise" or give "advice" and was offended. But I've come to realize that what he says is true. When you advise others, you become responsible for what happens to them because of your advice. Yet still... Maybe it would've been better if we never met. Maybe... I don't want to mend our friendship. Not because I'm angry or bitter or sad or mad. I don't want to mend our friendship because in the end, I can't do anything but hurt you. I don't usually get into arguments with friends. Is that because I'm not close enough to them? Because I push them away? All I want is for you to be happy and to live a life worth remembering. To not be constrained by what others think of you. Because you could be so much greater and better and more amazing. You could do so much. This isn't my apology. This is my goodbye. My farewell to our friendship and my trust that somehow you'll find a way to be amazing. ~ A friend "If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"