Now I'm dying of a heart disease. We took different spiritual paths and either you couldn't deal with it, or your wife convinced you that I was a bad person. It doesn't matter. I need you now more than ever and you haven't even tried to contact me in over two years. For all you know, I could be dead. Do you even care? How can we have shared so much, have been closer than brothers, and you don't even want to know if I'm dead or alive? Were you like this all along and I just didn't see it? Did I make more of the relationship than what it was? Even so, common human decency should prompt you to reach out to me and make sure I'm still alive.
But I'm tired of waiting, and I'm tired of feeling like a chump. I wish I could say it's easy to let the whole thing go, but it's not. I have to, if I'm going to move on and stop waiting for some speck of concern or friendship on your part. So I'm done. Have a nice life, and I wish you well. But I feel sorry for you if it's so easy to walk away. I feel sorry for your wife and kids. But mostly, you're the one who's going to regret cutting me off. And I don't feel bad about that at all, because eventually, you need to feel the same pain you've caused me.