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.