How could I ever forget? How could I ever forget when we first met? Strobing lights, Drake in the background. You were looking at me as you passed my group of friends, and I caught your eye. I left my friends, something in hindsight I probably shouldn’t have done – and I walked away alone, hoping that maybe you’d come up to me.
I stood alone on the dance floor, and there you were. And then you did. You came up to me, extended your hand “Hi, I’m ***”. My hands were shaking, my heart was beating. When was the last time I got back to this thing? “Hi…” I muttered, and then I went for it. Allow speaking, I’m going in I thought. I went in for the kiss first – I mean why not? It was fresher’s week. Everyone was our here to have fun. I’ll probably never see him again anyway. Then the events of night ensued, and I thought I’d never see you again.
And then you texted me. Something I never thought you’d do. We met. We did the deed. We stayed casual. Strictly sex. Nothing else. I came over. You came over. We had sex. We cuddled for 20 mins. And we went back to our respective halls. This went on and on and on.
And then we started getting to know each other. We started confiding in one another. We started speaking every day, starting snap chatting to and fro. I knew I was into you then. But you said you’d never settle down. And somehow I knew I wasn’t enough for you, I wasn’t slim enough, I didn’t have boobs big enough, I just wasn’t good enough. But still, I fell for you.. I think.
Of course I couldn’t tell you, because from the start you already said “don’t”. You already said “casual”. You already said “strictly friends with benefits.” Then we went on our first date, a Lebanese restaurant. I don’t think you know it but my heart was beating so fast, my stomach was filled with butterflies. When we went on our first date, out in the open and not just strictly in the bedroom, it had been about 3 months knowing each other. But I was still so nervous on the way to meet you. I planned my outfit 4 days before, and took 2 hours to prepare. Just for you.
Dates ensued. We started hanging out in school. Holding hands. Kissing on the streets. I’d never forget our walk back to your halls after the club on that cold Winter night in December. Hand in hand, strolling on the streets of London at 1am. You pushing me on random walls and kissing me. You piggyback-ing me. Us just talking. Us just getting along. So. Well. I was into you… I think.
By our second date you were probably my closest friend in school. You could read me like a book. I could eat clumsy in front of you. We would use the toilets with one another in it. We would shower together. We had the best sex, best chemistry. We were perfect for each other. It was on our second date when I knew I fell for you. I fell so hard for you. We were both in our underwear, Peroni in hand, dancing around in your bedroom. That’s when I knew, I really liked you. But you said from the star: we were just strictly friends with benefits.
The next few months were torture. Liking you in secret. Knowing I want more and you didn’t. Dealing with you getting with girls and bringing girls home. I was jealous, so jealous. Upset, so upset. Angry, so angry at you. But I couldn’t be. I was not in the position to be. Because you told me, you told me from the start, we were just strictly friends with benefits.
Then one day, when we were having our usual breakfast after our “bespoke nights” – you looked at me across the breakfast table. You just stared at me. You were so quiet. You just stared at me. And then on that night you called me and told me “You liked me.” Babe, you don’t know how happy I was. And I thought things would’ve changed, but no, it didn’t. We were still just strictly friends with benefits. You were still bringing girls home. You were still… you.
I was hurting. I was bruised. We were still hanging out, but it hurt me every single day to be next to someone I yearn so much. Then one day, I saw you on Tinder. It crushed me. We were falling apart and I knew I had to distract myself, to cushion me from the pain. So I met him. The other guy. We were like magic, we had good sex once in awhile. But the problem is – he wasn’t you. I was still thinking of you subconsciously.
It was not until we broke for summer that I knew I loved you. That I loved you… crazily, madly, deeply. When I thought you were ignoring me (but later found out that you just had no internet) (and our snap chat streak of 259 days broke just a heads up because I’d never forget idiot) I cried. I cried because I thought you were throwing me aside. That you were bored of me. That you didn’t want me anymore. That was when I knew I was so.. so into you. So… so in love with you. So… so obsessed with you. You were my person. You were the one that I turned to. The one I wanted to tell everything to. The one I wanted to go on holidays and share views with. The one I wanted to wake up next to every morning. The one I wanted to fall asleep next to every night. Sure you snore, but your snoring always made me smile, a slight smirk across my face as I attempt to fall asleep because I knew I could make fun of you the next morning. The one I wanted to wake me up in the morning by cuddling me because you were always awake before me. The one I wanted to go to Thorpe park with. The one I wanted to go for picnics in the park with. The one I wanted to be with.
You always have your way with me. I’m not a morning person but you always make my mornings. You cuddle me awake, you tolerate my groans when you wake me up. You knew me so well. We were so comfortable in each other’s companies. We had our inside jokes. We spoke for a good 9 months and didn’t run out of things to say. I’ve never met someone like you. I know, I know we’re just friends… with benefits. I know that we’re not going to end up together, though deep down I secretly hope we do. And if you’re just passing in my life, I’m so thankful I got to know you. I’m so thankful I got to meet you. I’m so thankful for you. If we ever stop talking and leave one another’s lives, just know that you’ve given me the best time of my life and I thank you for that.
We used to always joke that we’d probably kill one another if we ever got married. But secretly. I hope we do. If soulmates do exist, you are my soulmate. You are my person. I’m not meant to say this but… I’m so deeply, so deeply in love with you. More than you’d know. More than you’d ever know. Unless. Maybe. Who knows? If you do however end up reading this, you’d probably be laughing and you’d drop me a text later calling me a “silly slob”. If you are reading this… I love you.