I think about you a damn lot, more than I should.
It's second nature, something I do when I'm bored.
Not really fireworks anymore, but a warmth that won't go away.
Sometimes it still feels meant-to-be, but mostly I can't ignore that it's stupid and not mutual.
I used to write unsent poems and notes to you hoping that the universe would pick up on my not-so-subtle hints.
But to be honest with myself, I think the universe was reciprocating warning signs through you.
I came across a quote recently,
"when you're wearing rose-colored glasses, red flags just look like flags"
And boy, I have to admit, those flags looked like destiny, my whole life, our whole life, at my fingertips. I couldn't, didn't want to understand, why you saw nothing where I saw everything.
I've been through hell and back, and you have no idea. You recently asked me how I'm doing, a formality at a gathering, and all I could say was "better" because it's the truth. I don't know if you intentionally ignored it, or if your humility has prevented you from seeing the huge role you've played in my hurt. Is there a difference at this point?
However, there is a difference between a love note and a self-love note.
I'm not counting on the idea of us anymore. I think, I hope, I'm starting to let the boil simmer.
You'll always be the boy that broke my heart, obliterated it 'til I didn't want it anymore. It was worse than when I saw Heather Kwon dancing with Collin Pham at winter formal. It was worse than when I rejected Vincent Feng but still wanted him close. Nothing cut more permanently than the last few times I saw you smile and knew that I'd seldom be the reason why.
I'm still a foolish romantic at heart, but it isn't despite of you, it's in validation of you. Love used to be a myth, but it's so damn real.
Before you, I always joked that I wanted something tragic, worth fighting for. Guess I've always lived for dramatics. But you taught me that there's nothing beautiful about someone who doesn't love you back. Our whole friendship was me trying to convince you that we were almost and that I could be more, while you were trying to make me understand that there wasn't more and that I was enough. But to blatantly quote Ariana Grande, "almost is never enough" so our friendship will never be enough for me, and I'll always be too much for you.
It's sad. Life is sad. But also, as you cringed hearing, "life is beautiful," and I'll be damned if I let Mr. de Limur be my peak. There was a before you, and there will be an after you.
You still mean a lot to me, and I hope one day, if we ever genuinely catch up, I can realize that a lot of this went over your head to spare me the involuntary embarrassment. Just for personal pretension, I'm also genuinely curious if you considered us close friends or just friends. I think you can guess where you stood on my end.
I'm here if you need me, but I'm letting go of the idea of needing you. And it's something I'm finally ok with.
"I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are."