It started off like anything else: a blossoming friendship with endless possibilities. Our conversations were fearless; we talked about everything there was to talk about and more. Our jokes were private, we would laugh over repeats that nobody else could understand. Our time wasted together was not time wasted.
The similarities we had surprised us in little instances, we loved the same things — not things like music or books — but more like the intangible things. Then soon it began to show, you always chose to sit with me at a dining table, you would happen to be going the same direction, our hands would always find an odd way of meeting, you had all of my favorite songs in your phone (even though you secretly never quite fancied Aerosmith). And with each day, you commenced with professing your adoration in the most obscured manner possible because you were never one of grand gestures. (But that was why I liked you so much.)
And at that point our friendship was an immense perfection that was difficult to achieve for anyone else. We were great friends but we were just a little more than friends. I never understood what was in a title; to me, it was meaningless and carried many complications. I didn’t want to lose what we had because it couldn’t get any better than that. It was different for you, you were selfish and just a little more possessive. So from then, things took a downward spiral.
Our conversations got shorter and there was always a prior commitment at hand. You stopped trying. It was like déjà vu, but I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself where I was the fool who tried too hard and got hurt. I wasn’t ready to risk it all for what could have been another sloppy, sticky, stupid heartbreak. So I stopped trying and I let you go. I maintained a cool front around you but the what-if’s and could-have-been’s were constantly lingering at the back of my mind. It hurts to say this but I still think that I’d made the right decision in letting you walk out of my life rather than it be any other way.
However, I would have to take the blame for the distance that’s between us now. You haven’t changed at all since we met, but I have, I definitely have. I grew up; I became more ambitious and just a little colder. We now speak like old friends with a faraway memory because you have moved on and it’s time that I should too. So, when I let go of you now, I’m letting go of everything that we shared and our expired possibilities, and most of all, the idea of you and me and what could have been. And this is how I let go of the same person twice.