Dear Stranger,

Dear Stranger,


I know you had so much going on in your life lately, but you never seemed to have time for me even when you were completely free. I was more like a backup plan, a stress release assistant, a vessel that absorbs any negativity left in your mind after spending an amusing day with your "true friends" (as you're used to refer to them), the ones you're committed to seeing on the regular and unconditionally, but you do mind meeting me whenever I ask just because Sunday is your least favorite day or because you're too lazy to go out, but your laziness surprisingly disappears each time your "true friends" come out of nowhere and randomly call you to hang out.


It's funny how you're trying to make me feel guilty for "not being a good friend", just because I couldn't talk to you during the very short time you have left before giving in to sleep, while you had the whole day devoted to your priorities, including your silly buddies, I think I just happened to be barely on your wait list. You make it even worse when you tell me that I should appreciate you giving me any time at all, as if my life revolves around you. Well, it doesn't.


That's why, for what it's worth, I'm letting you go; but hey, you were leaving anyway. So I guess it doesn't really matter to you, it never did and will never do. See, I'm not blaming you for your indifference, maybe it's part of who you are, something you can't change, maybe your seats are fully booked, I understand.


You know, I'm just revealing the untold before erasing that false hope I had once, thinking you'd be different from other special strangers I've known. But here we are, as strange as we were when we first started.


Best,

Stranger.