If there's one thing I want you to know, it's that I don't hate you. I feel like I should, after tonight, but I don't. I can't. After tonight, I wanted to go sob into my pillows and beat myself for letting you into my life. I wanted to cry for the pressure you put on me to be in love with you when I wasn't. I wanted to cry for the way you used to treat me like a princess, like I was your everything, and now I'm just the source of your problems. I wanted to cry for being made a scapegoat, for the lies you told me about myself, for the insidious motives you put behind everything I said to you. I didn't cry; I couldn't. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn't. I can't. You were my best friend for all of last year, and I can't erase that.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked for my notebook back. It seemed like a valid request at the time, but it was taking a risk to open a closed line of communication. I'm sorry you didn't get to go to Italy; I've always been sorry about that, but there wasn't anything I could do to change your parents' decision. I had a right to be happy that my parents said I could go, and you tried to steal that from me. Italy was a big deal to me, and you tried to take it from me. You took any sign of happiness and anticipation I showed as gloating. My joys were never meant to be that.

I came back from Europe a different person, a more responsible person, a more mature person, and a person who looked at the world in an entirely new way. I learned a lot about myself in Europe; I grew in more ways than I could have imagined. I can't go back and change that; I can't go back to being exactly like I was before I went to Italy, and I wouldn't. I don't want to.

You tell me I'm not giving enough to our relationship. Mark, we don't have a relationship any more, and you have to admit that to yourself. Our relationship ended in December when you finally pushed me past my limit. I couldn't take any more emails telling me that I wasn't doing enough and that even though being your personal shrink may not have been the role I wanted, it was what you needed me to be, and as your friend I was obligated to be that. I couldn't do that, Mark. Friendship isn't about being something you're not because the other person needs it. Friendship is about people enjoying each other for who they are and what they are, and doing what you can. I gave as much as I could, but I can only give so much. You never realized that -- you still don't seem to -- and that's what drove us apart.

I'm sorry it had to end, Mark. I'm sorry you harbor so much bitterness toward me. I don't harbor such bitterness toward you. It will be better for both of us this way, though. I won't be able to hurt you anymore by simply being who and what I am, and you won't be able to hurt me because I'll learn to build walls around my heart that will shield it from your burning missiles. Goodbye.

Regretfully,