A letter to an old friend;

I can write this because I know you won't read it. You don't really read my stuff anymore, because you lost interest in me, to be honest. That's okay, because I lost interest in you, too. But I also read everyone's stuff, because I'm nosy and I keep tabs.

I honestly don't think we were really friends at all. We didn't start out as friends (you know what I mean) and we certainly didn't finish that way either. 

I know you call me your best friend, and I just don't understand that because we are so far from best friends.

I don't think you were a good friend. But I also feel like I shouldn't say that, because maybe I wasn't a good friend either?

It always bothered me how self-absorbed you were. I'm just as self-absorbed, too, I guess. But you always talked about yourself, and never asked about me. It was strange, how even when I would talk about myself I'd usually ask about you, too. I always asked how you were, but you never asked it back. Maybe it didn't mean much for you to ask that, maybe it would have just been small talk. But I guess it was about the thought behind it. The thought that you thought of me, that you cared.

I guess that's why we didn't really stay friends--and that we never were friends. Because you never cared. And I think that I stopped caring after a while, too. Maybe I never cared either.

I just don't want to have to chase you. I feel like these days, it's me who has to make the effort to talk to you. You don't really bother with me.

But it's strange, how I'm not very upset about this. Maybe it means I never really got myself attached to you.