I used not to hate you. When it all started, I just figured it was you doing the 'moody bitch' act that I had so frequently seen over the 8 years of our friendship. Time went by, though, and it became clear that you had decided to shut me out. I tried not to let it get to me because I knew that's what you wanted but after a while I couldn't take it any longer. And now I really do hate you.

I don't know what happened between us. We were so close, the best of friends, but then, everything changed. Everyone changed. It was like, one night, I went to sleep, happy and normal, and then I woke up the next morning in a completely different world. You can't possibly understand how that feels. The isolation was too hard to bear at one stage and there seemed no reason to go on. I sat there, on the cold tiles of Sick Bay, holding the key to the medicine cupboard. It could have been so easy, so painless, but I guessed it just highlighted another of my many faults. I'm weak.

And you know what? You made me weak. You left me all alone even though you said we were best friends. You didn't defend me, you didn't stand by me, you didn't virtually end your life to save me from ending mine, you didn't do anything. You just sat there, enjoying your pretty little perfect life, playing your cards right so everyone thought you were ever so nice and I was the 'bitch from hell' who used people and discarded them on an everyday basis.

You hurt me, Emma. I guess I should have known long ago. Back when we had that fight at Howqua. You did the taking but never the giving. You're so good at hiding your feelings. It's like a game to you. And you hate people seeing you cry. It makes you seem less perfect.

You don't have to worry about me though. That is assuming you have worried about me before which is highly unlikely. I'm fine now. No matter what you have put me through, I have survived it. I can't believe I wasted all those years of my life on you. Estelle tells me you want to be friends again. Fat chance, honey. Do you know how good that makes me feel? Not because you have decided I am worthy of your friendship, but merely because of the immature satisfaction value. I would, I *could* never be your friend again, even if you paid me. I hope your happy, cos I certainly am.