You called yourself my friend, while behind my back you were fooling around with my boyfriend...repeatedly and for months. When I was out of town...in my old house, my new house, my car, my bed. My bed for God's sake, you don't know how you've desecrated the places I must be in every day.
When my instinct told me something was happening I lashed out at you even though I felt bad doing so without proof. But you were my friend (I thought) so I went to you and cried to you, apologizing. Your casual forgiveness and false morals were a blatant lie: all the time I was right and my behavior was deserved.
You watched my life fall to pieces because of you and let it because you couldn't pick one from the hordes around you, you had to take what was mine. You came to my house and hung out like nothing was wrong, let me drive you to a concert three hours away and back where you groped him with me not a foot away. My family accepted you into their home; I cried inside, watching you put on your airs, seeing how familiar you were with him, how your body was tilted towards him... I knew, the whole time I knew, since the very first day.
Eight months of my life is gone because of you. I lost myself, I hurt myself, every day I wanted to die. Almost every night I wake up crying, every hour I am angry. Because of what you did.
Every shred of respect I had for you is gone, you lying, backstabbing cunt. Fuck you. Someday revenge will find you, with or without me. I hope you suffer miserably, I hope the person you least expect will trample on your heart, beat it and stab it and leave bruises that will never heal.
"Men are not punished for their sins, but by them."
"Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915)