I have a confession.
2 years ago, I didn’t fall in love with you; I fell in love with the idea of you. I fell in love with the fact that we had so much in common. Fell in love with the idea of having found someone at 16 years old and thinking that maybe, maybe I was as lucky as my sister was. She met the man she’s married to when she was 16. I loved the whole idea of being with you and staying together.
The only thing was, I didn’t know you. I didn’t know who you were or what you were like. I freaked out when I realized this and I couldn’t keep going anymore. And so I pushed you out of my life without rhyme or reason, really — unless being scared is reason enough. I pushed you out hard, I didn’t give you a chance to understand, I didn’t give you your right to know what was going through my head. And out there you remained for a long time. Trying to knock on my door every once in a while, only to be treated like an intruder who was trying to break into my home. It remained like that for a few months and I kept pushing you out, over and over again.
Then, at some point, you started knocking again. And for some unknown reason, this time, I let you stick around. Maybe you seemed gentler, I don’t know. But little by little I let you in, until we reached this point where you can come barging in on me without any considerations and I’ll just be happy you’re here.
It took you some time; it takes everyone some time with me. Even my childhood best friend had a hard time reaching me after I pretty much decided to cut her out of my life. But if you’ve stayed this long and tried this hard, you probably think it’s worth it. And I just want to thank you for staying at that corner, trying to find your way back in.
Now we’ve reached this point where we can talk about absolutely anything, where we can be completely and utterly ourselves without being judged and we know each other like never before. Then these couple of days happened. We were texting all the time, talking about anything and nothing. Sending each other love and hate messages.
I can’t say I’m letting myself dream about being with you — I don’t want to jinx it — but I wouldn’t say that I’m limiting it to just being a friendship either. I’m just going with the flow, watching where the future will take us.
Maybe we’ll be one of the lucky ones who found their significant other in their best friend. And maybe we won’t. But that’s not up to me, or us to decide. Not now. Not for a while.
And by the way, I love you.