Insanity they call it. Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. That has been my life for the last year.
We were together. And then we weren’t. I swear, it happened as fast as the milliseconds it took me to type those two sentences.
See, I cared. I cared a whole fucking lot. It was the first time I opened my heart again and truly felt like I had the best of both worlds – a boyfriend and a best friend.
You cared, too. But we cared on different levels. Emotionally, we were at a crossroads. I chose the road that was romance-filled, a knots-in-the-stomach kinda thing. You chose the road that had signs like “Homie” and “Just friends” stationed at every corner.
It happens. Two people come together, one feels something the other can’t reciprocate, and it’s a struggle. It sucks, but it happens.
Because I, without a doubt, thought that if I looked a certain way, acted a certain way, or did anything remotely different, it would just click.
I thought one day we would be hanging out, watching the same stupid show we both loved, and you’d just look at me differently. All of the months of me hoping you’d catch up to the way I felt, would actually happen.
And in the process, I clung to any sort of attention you threw my way. I held on to every word…every gesture that was remotely flirty. Deep down, I thought time would change the situation we were in.
But the only thing time has given me is more memories to drown myself in at night.
Because when I think back to all of the days and nights spent together, quoting ridiculous movies, impersonating fictional characters, laughing at absolutely nothing…I draw a blank. I forget why we can’t be together…question why we’re not together.
And that’s not fair…to you, or to me.
It is not fair that I continuously put us in a situation where I am fighting a battle that you no longer are a part of. I am not being a real friend if I can’t be happy for you with someone that is not me. I am not being a friend if deep down, I always want more.
It really is a struggle when your best friend is also the person you love. Because how can I expect you to pick up the broken pieces when you’re the reason I’ve fallen apart? It sounds so dramatic, and pathetic, and every other ridiculously emotional word I can think of.
It’s true though. I never wanted to feel this way. Who does?
Yet here I am. Sitting at this table, day after day, waiting for this person to show up, and apologizing for being so late because they’ve been stuck in traffic all this time.
But the restaurant is closing soon. And I don’t think you’re going to make it.