I am a God awful friend. It’s honestly a punch in the gut to even write that out. Anyone who knows me can attest to that, though, even if they didn’t want to. I don’t reply emails, texts, letters, or even phone calls (and it definitely doesn’t help my case that those I care about are hundreds of miles away.) I get relieved about canceled plans with strangers, I get nervous when calling to make appointments (or calling anyone for that matter,) and I’m not there for those who need me. Not even close. And most of the time, I don’t even feel bad for it. Being a douche-bag friend has been my way of guarding myself. I don’t know, I guess I just feel like if another bridge is burned, at least it will be on my terms. I hate myself for it. I do. I want to be a good friend, and I envy those that have less pride than I do.