The night I lost you

I lost you on your birthday. That year I was a mess.

We got ready for your party and you loaned me your black dress.

You spent hours on your make up as I watched from the bathroom floor.

I tried to straighten my hair but soon after got bored.

I always admired your attention to detail. I never had that kind of patience.

There was no determination, not the slightest motivation.

For you: I’d try. I wanted to look nice for the pictures you’d take.

Little did I know this would be the birthday I’d be replaced.

“My man will be there”, you said. The one you recently started to date,

You explained this as a matter of fact during the Uber wait.

I don’t hate you for trying to find love. In the end, I think it’s what we all want.

What hurt more was that after that night our friendship became so nonchalant.

I admit it, I got drunk. I thought we all did. Maybe I was wrong.

When I saw him on drugs, speaking down on you I reacted really strong.

I was angry at many things when I met him that night.

I really couldn’t tell you why you left early and what caused your fight.

But you left me stranded in Hollywood with no place to stay.

I cried on the phone to you the following day.

I wanted to make it right. I never meant to hurt you. If anything my intention was to protect you.

You silenced my calls. You said you needed space. That eventually we’d talked but when we did, it wasn’t the same.

I think I was used as a placeholder to kill time while you played the game.

You found yours. And I never heard from you again.

I wonder if you ever really saw me as your friend.

I am ready to let go now. Years later. I mean it when I say I wish you and “the man you chased” well.

I’ve come to learn I am not the lime. I’m the damn tequila & I’m strong as hell.

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