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“This is why we can’t “just be friends.”

I wasn’t your friend. I was your lover. Your plaything. Your distraction from the game. Your flirtation gone too far. Your stress-reliever. Your almost baby-momma. Your dishwasher, house cleaner and hand holder. Your project manager. Your accountant. Your bank. Your keeper-together of your shit. Your one-word reason for thinking you couldn’t go out on Saturday night. Your property. Your 5’6” blowjob machine. Your time-waster. Your boredom-killer.

I was not your friend. I’m friends with people who respect me, my time, my money, and my voice. That list is “all of the above” not “a la carte”. If we remain friends, it’s because of the mutual respect. If we remain friends, it’s because the expression of my love for you was allowed to change. Friendship isn’t an inferior product to fucking and “love”. Friendship is what keeps fucking and “love” going when shit is hard. Because life gets hard and only friends will stick it out through hard times. Fucking falls by the wayside. “Love” skips town.”

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