The Once I Called My Best Friend...

Everyone says friendship is sacred.

That a best friend is someone you can tell everything to - without hesitation, without fear.

A place to feel safe, heard, understood.

I believed that. Completely.

And because I believe it,

I gave her all of me.

My unspoken pain.

My past scars.

The dreams I was too afraid to admit out loud.

The mistakes I carried in silence.

The raw, fragile parts of me I never showed anyone else.

I let her in.

Because I trusted her.

Because I thought she was my person.

But no one warns you about what happens.

When the person you trust the most turns your vulnerabilities into weapons.

It started with small things.

An awkward laugh at a story I told her in confidence.

A sarcastic remark about something only she knew.

I brushed it off - Maybe I am overthinking.

But deep down, something did not feel right.

Then came the real cracks.

People I barely knew were suddenly aware of things I had only told her.

My private life had become public entertainment.

I could hear the laughter.

I could feel the judgment.

And she?

She acted like it was no big deal.

Like my pain was just a punchline.

Like our friendship was a stage and I was the comedy act.

The most ironic part?

She was still loved.

Still called loyal, fun and the best friend ever.

And I was the story she told at parties.

I felt humiliated.

But more than that, I felt betrayed.

Not just by her,

but by the version of myself that trusted her so blindly.

I started questioning everything.

Was I too emotional?

Too trusting?

Did I deserve this?

But let me be clear.

Betrayal is never deserved.

Trust is one of the most sacred things you can give someone.

And when someone shatters that trust, it's not your fault.

It's a reflection of who they are, not who you are.

After that, I changed.

I became quiet.

Closed off.

People noticed.

Why do not you talk like before?

Are you okay?

But how could I explain?

How do you explain the kind of pain that does not bleed, but scars?

I started building walls.

Not because I wanted to push people away -

But because I did not know who was safe anymore.

Some people I did not want to know you.

They just want your stories.

Your softness.

Your secrets.

So, they can turn them into gossip later.

She was not my friend.

She was a collector of my wounds.

She used them - not to comfort me, but to tear me down.

I still remember everything I told her.

Not because I am stuck in the past, but because I deserve to remember the version of me who believed in love and loyalty.

That girl did not deserve to be betrayed.

She deserved to be protected.

And while I have come a long way since then, the lesson still lingers.

Not everyone deserves access to you.

Not everyone is worthy of your truth.

Now, I choose silence.

Now, I protect my peace.

Now, I give pieces of myself to people who earn it - not those who pretend to.

And if you are ever gone through something similar -

If you have ever been stabbed by the same person you defended,

If your kindness was turned into a weapon against you -

Please know this:

You are not alone.

You are not weak

You are foolish.

You are human.

You loved.

You trusted and made you brave - not broken.

Final Thoughts:

Friendship is more than laughs and selfies.

It is late-night calls.

It is showing up.

It is keeping quiet about what was said in confidence.

It is loyalty when no one is watching.

And if someone cannot give you that -

They do not deserve to be called a friend.

I may never forget what she did.

I may never fully forgive her.

But I have learned.

I have grown.

And I will never apologize again for loving too deeply, for trusting too much or expecting respect from someone who claimed to care.