Performing our Friendship

What makes a person likeable? How they look, how they dress, or maybe who they’re friends with? I think it’s about how kind they are, their willingness to be your friend. “I guess we can hang out.” “I guess we could study together.” “I guess.” “I guess." Do you do that to other people too? Leeching only the qualities you need from someone and milking every last drop out of them, until there’s no more to extract. No more to get, nothing else to receive. When you’re not around, you make me a dying garden. No soil, no nutrients, no water. The petals start to look like shriveled, rancid grapes, melting into raisins, soon to wilt off its stem disconnecting with itself, its feelings. Tell me what gets you so giddy about the 218 likes on your post? How many of those people are even real? I feel like nobody truly cares about someone like that. Like you… acting like you’re already an adult, holding onto your sister’s beer while you both squat awkwardly, posing for the red digital camera in the clean-cut, gold trim mirror. Acting like you won’t be pleading to copy someone’s homework tomorrow. I wish that mirror cut you, the gold replaced with bright crimson just a small, guilty part of me hopes for the mirror to reflect the truth crawling inside you I wish the world saw your uglies, the way it sees mine every day. Something about our relationship, makes me feel mad at myself, melancholic, miserable. Oddly, I feel like I need you. Sticking around makes me feel more seen. a lack of that attention, makes me feel worthless, invaluable. Sometimes, I think it’s permissible to be someone’s shadow. but not to the point where i’m being treated like a shelter dog, something to be pitied something you gave a new life to. Should I feel blessed? Blind eyes, two feet, a conscience barely functioning on its own. Should I feel blessed to feel like I need you? At least you talk to me. I can take pride in calling you my friend. But is that really what this is? Because the way I see it, you’ve always been the cherry-red, heart-shaped centerpiece, and I'm just your measly, uneven silver outline. I wish, next time, you don’t think of me as a country bumpkin, and you, a city-girl. I wish, next time, I was worth more than 218 likes. that popularity. I wish, in our next lives, our friendship can be genuine. In this little school, I wish you needed me just as much as I need you.