07/10/2025
**We’re cool, sis, but we’ll never be friends again.** You painted me as the villain I never was, and that threw me off. I stood by you when no one else did. I defended your name when people whispered behind your back. I celebrated your wins like they were my own, and I held space for your pain even when I was drowning in my own. But somewhere along the way, you decided to twist my loyalty into a weapon, to turn my kindness into a weakness. That cut deep. And the saddest part is, I never saw it coming.
I still hope you eat well, just not at my table anymore. I still wish you peace, success, and joy because my heart doesn’t know how to hate — it only knows how to let go. I don’t want to see you fail; I just don’t want to sit next to you while you feast on the parts of me that I gave you freely. My forgiveness isn’t a ticket back into my life. Wishing someone well isn’t an invitation for them to return. Boundaries aren’t built out of anger; they’re built out of self-respect. And I’ve learned to respect myself enough to leave the door closed once it’s shut.
This isn’t bitterness; it’s clarity. Sometimes people you thought were safe turn out to be the storm. Sometimes the betrayal doesn’t come from strangers — it comes from the hands you held out in love. It’s a hard lesson, but it’s also a freeing one. Because when you finally accept that someone isn’t who you thought they were, you stop begging them to be.
We’re cool, sis, but my table now only seats those who bring honesty, reciprocity, and peace. I can’t keep giving my energy to people who distort my character and then call it truth. I can forgive without reconnecting. I can wish you well without letting you back in. And I can move on without bitterness, because my peace is worth more than my pride.
So yes, I still hope you thrive. I still hope you heal. But I’m done setting myself on fire to keep someone warm who never cared to protect me from the flames. Some doors close for a reason — and this one will stay closed.