You asked me once if you'd ever hurt me. I laughed and told you no. I said I'd hurt myself and it wasn't your fault. It was the second time I've ever lied to you. Yes, you hurt me. We never had the type of relationship I wanted; we never kissed, never dated, never did anything beyond friendship. It wasn't like you cheated on me, but it hurt to see you throw yourself at every single guy you met except me. I'm glad I was never one of your meaningless hook-ups, we probably wouldn't be such great friends now if I had been, but I haven't been able to stop wondering what's wrong with me. You picked scumbags over me, and, yeah, that hurt.