I’ve always been the weak one of my friends. I say weak, maybe others say submissive, or compliant. You were the confident one, tall, proud, sure of yourself. I was drawn to your energy, your strength. You saw me as a resource. I bent over backwards to make sure you were happy. Emptying my wallet, emptying out my schedule, emptying out my life source. You were more than happy to take what I would give, more than happy to ask for more. I started breaking my morals, disregarding rules, ignoring the warnings. You would snap at me, manipulate me, mold me like clay. You were making me obedient, cutting me off from other friends, assuring me they didn’t know me like you did. I believed you, I thought I loved you, I continued to give you everything I could. You got tired of my emotions, I can’t deal with your mood swings and all your s*** all the time, you said to me. I cried, I begged you to let me stay, I promised I would hold myself back, dull my emotions for you. You agreed, knowing that if I stayed through that I would be your friend through anything. I should have gotten out then, but my eyes were hazed with love, the hardest thing to kill. You were abusive, but not in a way anyone could tell. I was your victim, but not in a way that I could find help. Eventually, you got tired of me, tossed me out like the trash you thought I was. Eventually, I realized what you had been doing to me, and gained the strength I never thought I would have. Occasionally I see you, and my heart screams, I miss you, I miss you. But my mind screams, run, run, run. You don’t have power over me anymore, you made me stronger, you made me better, and some would say I should thank you for that. But you, you deserve none of my sympathy, none of my thanks, none of my heart. You used me, now I’m done with being used.