We don’t talk anymore, but if we did I’d tell you that you look so happy. I’d say that’s all I ever wanted for you. I would have probably appreciated it more if it was with me, but that’s a different story. I’d ask you to meet up, for what I don’t know. Tea, probably.
I don’t even know if you drink coffee, I don’t. We’d sit and catch up, I’d laugh at any impression you did. Whatever joke you made. We’d probably reminisce over a memory or two, or maybe I would. I always found a way to bring them up. In real life, I probably wouldn’t say anything. I’d just joyfully accept the fact that you’re happy and we’re catching up.
But in this version I’d take your hands in mine (something I only did a handful of times) and tell you that I’ve hated you, just little bit, for about 4 years now. I wouldn’t look you in the eyes, they’re too puppy-dog like (something I always loved) and I’d lose my nerve. I’d say that I’m somewhere between missing you and being over you, that I’m closer to seeing one of your Facebook posts and just scrolling pass.
But that it still doesn’t make sense to me, how everything just came to a halt. No warning, no explanation. How it all felt like nothing, how I felt like nothing. We were 18, we were dumb. But then we weren’t; then we were 19, 20, and somehow it still ended up being wrong. Maybe that’s how the universe told us. Besides if we’re being honest, you were present maaaybe like 3/4 of the time. I fucking hated that disappearing act.
I’d tell you that I’m sorry things didn’t work out, that I really thought it’d go differently. Even though I know I tried my hardest, I did everything you’re supposed to do. Maybe I didn’t do everything right, there’s actually high probability that I did things wrong but I was present and I did try. I’d probably start to tear up, but then I’d cut that shit quick because I know I’ve cried over you more times than necessary.
I’d tell you I wish we would have gotten to know each other better, for a little longer. That I wish I would have gone to Alaska when you suggested it, but that I am also glad I didn’t. Then the clichés would come, but they would most definitely be true.
I’d tell you that you’re special, and to never doubt yourself. I’d say, I hope you never accept anything less than you deserve. I would squeeze your hand and sigh, you’re everything any woman could want and more but I guess we weren’t enough for each other. I’d tell you that even though I don’t understand why everything unfolded the way that it did, that it is okay. We were young, dumb, and I loved you.
I’d let you know that you were my best friend and that’s what made everything so much better., That part I’ll forever miss, you seemed to always understand. I’d give you a hug that’s long overdue, maybe you’d call me “doll” for old time’s sake. I’d laugh at how awkward I’d inevitably make things, apologize for keeping you so long and then we’d say goodbye.