No good has ever come from leaving Manhattan.

Since moving to New York, my blog has been read by mostly everyone I know. I happily tell people about it, knowing they'll find enjoyment in my anecdotes, and what nots. I didn't count on becoming such great friends with certain readers of my blog, which makes things somewhat difficult. I'm a very open person, in general, and when I'm hurt or upset I talk about it. But when I'm hurt by someone I care very much for, who reads this on a daily basis, what can I do? I certainly can't blog about it. I wouldn't dream of inflicting pain or sadness on someone I care so much about. But I must, because I'm tired. And frustrated. So, let's suspend reality for just a moment. Imagine I never met you, in fact pretend this isn't even directed towards you. Just take it for what it's worth.

I am your friend. You are mine. You also might be one of my favorite people in all of New York. Which is probably why I'm able to accept your quirks, mannerisms, and on occasion, offensive behavior. I know that without everything you "come with", you'd just be another pretentious, boring asshole of a Hipster. But you're not. And that's what makes this so incredably difficult.

I completely understand your wanting to be with your friends, your "events", your dropping out of sight for several days to decompress. I get it, I really do. That's you. And while I truly appreciate your friendly extension of kindness, every now and again, it's terribly frustrating when it's over. Because I know I have to wait another month before spending a few moments with you, when you get an opening in your schedule. Although I work ridiculously long hours, I make time for my friends, because I look forward to their company. Just like I did last evening.

The things I went through to get to you last evening, aren't really important. Coming from the Upper West Side after a 12 hour work day might have some meaning to you, but the point is I was coming. I suppose I buy the reason as to why you didn't alert me to the venue change. Friends forgive stuff like that. What I don't accept is what transpired once I arrived.

Do you remember what you promised me? You promised me this night would be different from previous ones I've experienced. You promised me people would behave differently, that I and my guest would feel welcome. We weren't. I'm not entirely sure you noticed my absence, so soon after arriving. My guest and I decided there really was no reason to stay, since no extension was made on anyone's part to make us feel welcome.

I thought, perhaps, I'd make up this elaborate story about the exciting places we went to, once leaving your venue. But I'm to hurt to go to all of that trouble. In reality, we walked to a crappy diner under the 7 train, had shitty food, and went home.

I didn't think I'd be this upset. This sort of things happen, right? But, because you are who you are to me, it burns more than I couldv'e imagined. I promised myself I wouldn't allow things like this to upset me. But, I seriously cannot continue going out with people, with the promise of fun and fancy, when the end result is tears and anger.

I wish it wasn't so frustrating being your friend. If you were someone else, this would be so much easier. But you're not, you're you. And that's why it hurts so much. I wish I could actually speak to you, and tell this to your face. They're are many things I could say.