A letter to a friend.

I know you'll never read this. I'll never have the chance to let you read it. But know this. I hate what happened between us in a way you'll never know. I HATE I LOST MY BEST FRIEND. I can't remember a time when you weren't around. When you didn't stop to tell me hello in the mornings when we first get to work and get online. When we shared all our hopes and dreams. And problems.

And we were virtually inseparable. All work day, every day, you were there. I knew your troubles at home as you knew mine. I knew the pain of the divorce and the comfort I hope I gave during that time. I knew the laughter, and the stupid jokes I made. You know, the ones that made you smile and shake your head as if I was some kind of crazy person.

But that's over now. And I am empty inside. I am lonely. I never said I had a lot of friends, but the ones I have are as close to me as any family member of mine.

And I threw that all away. The fault is all mine. The agony and pain I gave you is all my fault. I betrayed you and I betrayed myself. And I'll never recover from the guilt of that. And this is a time when the word never CAN be used. (Despite how much you hate it.) Nothing is the same without you. Nothing will ever be the same without you, my best friend in the whole world. I wonder if Brutus felt this way after assassinating Caesar?

I don't know why I did what I did. Not really. I've always considered myself a better person than that. I've always felt like a better person than that. But I'm not perfect, as much as I might have deluded myself before.

A part of me died on Friday. I'm ashamed and humiliated at what I've done to you. At what I've done to everyone around you. It was unfair, and I have no excuses for my actions. I've lost a big part of my world this weekend and it's my own pathetic fault.

How could I have been so stupid? I've asked this a thousand, a million times since Friday. I could be a cop out and say it was the health problems, and all the medication. But I won't. I could say it was work. Or home, or my kids. But I won't. I could say the pull was too strong. The temptation too much. But I won't. I'm not a weak person. I never have been; nor will I be so now. I'm not a victim. Not this or any other time. The fault lies completely with me. The shame and humiliation I have put upon myself (and you) is palpable to me. I feel it pressing against my heart, my soul, with the force of a nova.

And I can't change it. There is no magic wand. There is no rewind button on life. We live and we learn. And this lesson, if it doesn't kill me, will make me stronger. Better. Not that that is of any solace to you.

I know you are hurting. I know, when you've hurt in the past, you've turned to me. That isn't possible now. Nor ever again, no matter how much I entreat. How much I beg for forgiveness. I know it will never be. And every time I think that, I die a little more inside. I'm so numb now. The days aren't as bright anymore. The nights darker, more sinister. I lie awake at night and ache. For you. To comfort you. To be your friend again. To watch you smile and laugh and be happy. But I never will. Never again.

And I am sorry. Such pitiful words for the pain I've caused. They sound so hollow, empty to my dead ears. But they are sincere. I NEVER MEANT TO HURT YOU. God, I'm such a fool. For all my supposed intelligence, I'm still a fool.

Maybe, one day, you'll find it in your heart to forgive me. But I doubt it. I don't think I deserve forgiveness for what I've done. I'll never forgive myself.

I love you, my best friend. I AM sorry for what I've done. My life will never be the same without you, and that hurts even more knowing the fault is mine.

Farewell, friend. May your journey be filled with love and happiness. Things I may never really have again in the same way I had with you in my life.