I know you’re using my friendship. I realize that, I am not stupid. You pop in and out, talk to me for a minute then wander off. Keeping my friendship on the line for when you need it.

And, I hate myself for allowing it.

A smile pops onto my face when you first talk to me, no matter how hard I try to not smile. Hearing your voice makes me happy for some odd reason.

I hate that.

I know your type. Hell, my teenage years were encompassed by people just like you. Until I was 21 they were like that. Then, I thought I had woken up.

In a way I have. At least I recognize it now, even if I am too damn nice to get away from it.

I really hate that.

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