I was a terrible friend

Okay, here goes. I need to get this off my chest because it's been eating me up for years. My friend, Lisa, she was… is, I guess, the best person I know. Always smiling, always there for everyone, even when she was going through her own crap. And I took advantage of it.

We were roommates in college. Tiny, cramped apartment, but we made it work. Lisa was the organized one, always cleaning, always paying the bills on time. Me? Not so much. I was a mess, stressed out about classes, and honestly, just lazy. Lisa picked up my slack. She'd do my dishes, remind me about deadlines, even cover my share of the rent sometimes when I was short. I always said I'd pay her back, but I never did. Not really. A few bucks here and there, but nothing close to what I owed her.

It wasn't just the money, though. It was how I treated her. I was jealous of her, I think. She was naturally good at everything – school, art, relationships. I was always struggling. So, instead of being happy for her, I’d subtly put her down. Make little digs about her clothes, her boyfriend, her taste in music. I told myself I was just joking, but deep down, I knew I was being a bitch. A mean, insecure bitch.

The worst part is, when she really needed me, I wasn’t there. Her grandma died senior year. She was devastated. I knew how close she was to her. But I was so wrapped up in my own drama – a stupid fight with my boyfriend, a bad grade on a paper – that I didn’t give her the support she deserved. I made it about me, somehow. Complaining about my problems while she was grieving. God, I hate myself for that.

We drifted apart after graduation. Different cities, different lives. I tried to reach out a few times, but she was always busy. I think she knew, deep down, what kind of friend I really was. And honestly, I don’t blame her for not wanting anything to do with me.

I don’t know why I’m writing this now. Maybe because I saw a picture of her online the other day. She looked happy, successful. And I felt this wave of guilt wash over me. I just want her to know that I’m sorry. Sorry for being a terrible friend, sorry for taking advantage of her kindness, sorry for not being there when she needed me most. I hope she’s doing okay. I hope she’s found people who appreciate her the way she deserves to be appreciated. And I hope, someday, she can forgive me. Even if I can’t forgive myself.

I really screwed up.