Today.

Today I looked at pictures of a very dear friend of mine. This person was my one best friends, always understanding, always there for me, always willing to listen.

Until, that is, they decided that their new get-drunk friends were more worth their time than me. They called me less often than they used to, and visits were even more scarce. But the funny thing is, no matter how long it took them to call me back, or visit me, or be remotely present in my life, I could never stay mad. Never. I could be completely angry and upset, and vow to let them have it when I next saw them, and be absolutely fuming for days; then, they would show up on my doorstep and suddenly, every bad feeling would just...go away. The second I saw them, I was happy. I completely forgot about everything I had stored away to tell them, like how I hated that I felt forgotten, that I felt unworthy of my best friend's time, that I hated the glimpse I had of who they were becoming. They even forgot about the concert they promised to take me to-I still have the tickets-and even so, I couldn't bring myself to mar the time I had with them, however fleeting.

It took me a while to figure out why I could never do it, why I could never tell them how much I wished they hadn't changed.

Then one day, I finally got it. I had fallen in love with my best friend.

I had to say it aloud for it to finally register, but it did. I was so joyful every time he came around, I completely wrote off every shitty thing he did, I made excuses for him time and time again. Any other friend I would have confronted by that point, but no this one.

Then, as ironically and tragically as a Shakespeare story, my best friend changed. Not two weeks after I realized I loved him, he completely changed. He started to blow off the people he'd been blowing me off with for even scummier people. His lifestyle, goals, even his outlook on life changed.

And, to top it off, he'd found, not just a girl, but a girl he loved. And slept with, and partied with, and blew me and everybody else off with.

So, while I was mustering up the courage to tell him how I felt, he told me about how amazing this scumbag girlfriend who drinks and does drugs and lives in a shitty part of town is.

I had to hear every sordid detail of their relationship, wishing I was her and realizing that there was no way I could possibly have a smidgen of what I want.

He hasn't called me since the beginning of June, and he hasn't been the best friend he used to be since last December. And you know what?

I realized today that, despite everything-how shitty a friend he's been, how heartbroken he's made me, how he's not the person I used to know, I still love him. I still love him, still hate who he's with, and I still hate that I'm not her.

All the shit I've been through, and I'm still making excuses for him.

....And there's not a day where I don't wish he'd call.