We texted back and forth until my phone battery came close to dying. We flirted with each other until all of our friends were asking why the hell we weren’t official yet.
We spent so much time together that you became one of my closest confidants, one of the people who I would have missed even if there was never any sexual tension between us.
You mattered to me. You were an important piece of my existence.
I have to remind myself we never dated, because it feels like we did. It feels like you were my boyfriend. It feels like you promised me something, even though you never actually said the words aloud.
Maybe it’s my own fault for making assumptions. Assuming you wanted a serious relationship. Assuming you were only interested in me. Assuming your feelings were as gut-wrenchingly strong as mine.
Technically we never dated, technically I cannot call you an ex, but my heart is still broken by your absence.
I have screen shotted old conversations between us. I have written about you in diary entries. I have photographs saved on my phone. When I type in the search bar on any social media, your name is the first one that appears.
I know I should release you from my thoughts, but you have been the only thing I cared about for so long. Whenever I stepped into a hot shower or drove down a busy highway, I daydreamed about what I would say when I saw you again. All week, I looked forward to talking to you.
You made me feel alive. You made me feel like there was a point.
Without you around, I feel like I have lost a piece of myself. The piece that helped me enjoy life, that sent butterflies swarming through my stomach. I haven’t felt okay since you have gone. My laughter has been forced lately. My smiles have been counterfeit.
Even though you were never my official boyfriend, I have been going through all of the steps that a breakup entails. We might as well have been together for years, because it hurts the same.
It hurts to know the one person I trusted to stay decided they had better places to travel. It hurts to know the moments we shared only mattered from my point of view. It hurts to know you never cared with the same intensity as me, that you never felt the same even when I swore our feelings matched.
We never dated so you probably don’t feel any guilt about leaving me behind. You probably don’t realize how horribly you have hurt me.
But in my mind, it doesn’t matter that there wasn’t an official title representing our relationship. I grew attached to you. I liked you. I might have even loved you.
When you left me alone, I lost more than a friend, more than an almost boyfriend. I lost the future I stupidly assumed we were going to share.