I give up, Dean.

I give up.

I give up trying to pretend like this is working.

I give up trying to make it work when we’re tearing apart at the seams.

I give up trying to make myself believe it still exists.

I give up having to remember your birthday later. By facebook, that too.

I give up the urge of wanting to talk to you when something major happens, but being whip-lashed by the fact that you aren’t around. Or that you don’t care.

I give up the urge of wanting to call you when life gets too real, but you’re just not there.

I give up having to shift schedules around just to meet you. For a couple of hours. And then letting you go because you’re just visiting.  And you have more important people to see.

I give up the urge of ending up at your doorstep most morning with pancake mix and eggs. Because you never have the good stuff.

I give up having to fight with you at the littlest things and then laughing out loud because we sound like a couple.

I give up having to frown every time I realize exactly how much the guy you’re dating hates me.

I give up on the fact that you don’t even WANT to care anymore.

I give up on the fact that neither do I.

I give up on the dreams and plans I wanted to talk to you about going to university together, fearing you’d just guffaw in my face. Rightfully.

I give up on the concept of best friends forever.

I give up on the concept of soul sisters, because it was just misplaced faith. In us.

I give up because it’s getting harder as the days go by.

I give up because the distance is too much and I have more important people around me now. So do you.

I give up because the drama is too much.

I give up because you forget.

I give up because I forget.

I give up, Dean.

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