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I only met my best friend when I was in my mid-twenties.  We met, just clicked, and in no time were inseparable. We shared each other’s joys, heartaches, crushes, breakups, tears, considered each other the one other person in the world who would always understand. Although we spoke over the phone or e-mailed each other throughout the day with exciting updates on random happenings, we still met up almost each day. I could not picture a life without her – honestly, the thought never crossed my mind.

After years of having an irreplaceable confidant, she became enamored with one of those guys, we all know one of them – the ones who can tell a woman likes him and strings her along, manipulates her and uses her without ever actually promising anything.

The strangest thing though, mere days after she met him, when I told her what I thought he was doing she yelled at me.  Of course after so many years we’ve had fights and disagreements but nothing like this.

As the days went by I saw less and less of her.  She became closer and closer to him and I became less and less important to her.  She lost her temper with me more often, became dismissive of me and sometimes, simply ignored me while sitting in my living room chatting to him.

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Within a month of knowing him my birthday came up.  We have, for as long as we’d known each other, spent the night before our birthdays together and celebrated atmidnight.  But that year it changed.  No plans were made.  She had discarded our tradition to go partying with him.  I felt like she had discarded more than a tradition, she really had discarded me.

By the time she had known him for two months, she simply broke off our friendship.  No reason and no warning.   I accepted it, but I hated her for it.

A few months later she realised what kind of person he was, and was coming over for visits again, chatting, e-mailing, calling.  We never discussed what happened or why. We tried to plaster over the holes and cracks in our relationship, pretended it was fine, but it kept falling apart.  I lashed out viscously whenever I lost my temper over some insignificant thing and went straight for the jugular, so much so that I shocked myself.  I realised then how cruel I could be, how hurt I actually was.

We just had another argument recently – again about one of those guys she’s known for a few weeks and is doing what one of those guys does, I don’t know if we’ll talk again, if it’s even worth it.  I’ve lost my best friend and it breaks my heart.

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