When I met you we were in the seventh grade. I was new too the school and had no real friends, just a few general aquantences. We met in science class, paired for a project that no one wanted too do. Before I realised it was me and you. Where ever you went, I followed. You have no idea how much it meant too finally have a friend.

As time went on I listened too your problems, offered advice, and a shoulder to cry on. I beleived your every word, even when they didn't make sense. Isn't that what friends are for?

But as time went on depression, and self hate, bullying stuck its claws in me. I would go too you, and muse my feelings, but you wouldn't listen! You cut down my problems, and say that you had it worse. You actually made me feel horrible for being depressed! Would you believe me I tell you that that made it worse?

As time went on I stopped speaking words of my problems too you, or anyone really. My mother wouldn't listen, my 'father' was nonexistant, and you, my only friend would tear my feeling down. My self hate, and depression pooled in the depths of my stomach, filling that food where dood was supposed too be. Every night I would sob into my pillows, staining them with clear of my tears, and the crimson from my wrsits.

I eventually saught help, but you would still cut me down. Ignoring me when I needed you, yet asking for my help at your own convenience.

You didn't listen. Wouldn't listen! I never wanted your help, I just wanted you too listen to me! Hold me as I cried! Smile at me and tell me "It will be okay" Even if it were a lie!

I didn't truley start getting better until I saw you less, and less. Even now, though we see little of eachother, you act as if I should consider myself lucky that you dare speak too me!

I should be lucky? How, when you treated my problems, and me like I was beneath you?!

I didn't know asking for friendship, someone for me too help, and for someone too help me, was such a big inconvenience for you.

I am lucky. Because of you I proved too myself that I'm worthy of being loved, of living. I was able too start climbing out of the hole you helped me dig. Yes, I'm lucky, but only because I am winning my fight. I'm not lucky because of you.