At first I thought you were one of the more interesting people I’d met in recent memory.

Now, I see that you’re just an egotistical man who doesn’t give a crap about anything or anyone else. I realize I’m being a little harsh on this front (after all, you did say you care about my workaholic tendencies), but really, what did you expect given your behaviour? You don’t have any patience at all with regard to anything I say.

That’s funny… you're the only one with this problem. You really are.

We’re not interested in the same things, you say, as if that’s a legitimate explanation for why you don’t want to speak to me. However, we’re still friends, according to you.

And then, whenever I do ask about something I know you’re interested in, apparently, I need to substantiate my question. Not my answer, mind you, but the reason I’m asking the damn question. Being interested in your so-called ‘expert’ opinion isn’t a good enough answer for you. Like I have to be a damn expert in what I’m talking about before you’ll even deign to talk to me.

You say the only thing I talk about is work. Well, no f***ing wonder if I can’t talk about anything else in your presence. At least I’m trying. No, scratch that. At least I tried.

Everyone else says you’re a nice guy. The only conclusion I can come to is either everyone else is blind, or you reserve your worst side for me, saving up all your vitriol and sarcasm for use whenever I have the misfortune to be around. That must be it. Occam’s razor.

I used to like talking to you too, although I could never meet your eyes, as you’d noticed. It always felt as if you could see right through me. Now, I feel as if that film over my eyes has been stripped away. I can see clearly now, and I can definitely see through you.

There’s no room anywhere in the world for me and your ego.

Thank you so much for showing that to me. I feel as if I can finally move on from a friendship not worth saving.

I don’t know what I ever saw in you in the first place, but it definitely wasn’t the real you.