I see anger.  There’s fire that’s burning all around me. I just want to go outside and scream. Let it all out. It won’t go away, the crushed feelings will never subdue. I try to keep my thoughts on something else, maybe something more positive, but here comes the anger again sneaking up behind me, taking over my soul. I have the right to be angry. But for some reason I’m not. I’m sad, I’m hurt. I called you a friend. I thought you were someone I could trust someone I could lean on. But I was wrong. And I see that now. To you I’m nothing. To you I’m a minor pimple you cover up with makeup to get your way. Who do you think you are, using me as a scapegoat? I have every right to be furious, to come to your house and give you a piece of my mind. But no, instead I stay home, curled up on the couch, hurt. Everyone sees what you did was wrong, everyone else is furious, but I’m hurt. I don’t get it. Friendship can mean so much to some, and so little to others. Or maybe I need to wake up and realize this is reality, this is what happens in the real world. If this is the real world then I don’t like it. What world are we living in that our best friends will stab you in the back? I’d rather die, in vain then sit here in the pain, agony, and anguish of this cruel world.