She Is My Bestie

If I say gray, she says wrong. If I say red, she says blue. If I say yellow, she says stripes. If I say pink, she makes fun of me. We play her games. Then we are supposed to play mine. It does not happen. She gets bored, and stops playing when it is my turn. We used to dance and laugh and sing and stuff. That does not happen anymore. She is determined to be dour, And I get pulled down easily, wanting to help her. We used to share stories. Now hers are the only important ones. She calls me, but does not answer the phone when I call. I can feel her sneer through the phone lines. People tell me to drop her. I can’t. She is my bestie. Sad, huh?