You will try to convince yourself that this letter isn't really about you, but you will be wrong. I loved you. I really did. I tried to be everything you wanted me to be, but no matter how hard I tried, I could never quite reach the goal. You told me that you loved me. And that I was your best friend. But then you disappeared, taking a piece of my heart with you.
High school was awkward. But the highlight was that I got to meet you. It was pretty much a twist of fate that landed us together. But that one afternoon being assigned to sit together was the start of it all.
We quickly became friends. I had a crush on you almost from the very start, but you were older, and I didn't know what to do about it. We started talking almost every night on the phone, sharing our hobbies, goals, and even secrets. I would go to sleep with a smile on my face and wake up excited to see you again.
We continued this way for years. Our feeling for each other being denied and basically ignored. We became the closest friends and we told each other everything, except what we truly wanted from one another. After high school, life happened, as it always does. We moved on but we continued to talk and meet up as often as we could.
I met someone and decided to spend my life with him, but you were always present in my life. I'll never forget the day that you asked me to leave him, and start over with you. I thought you were joking, but I hoped that you weren't. But nothing else was ever said about it.
We knew each other's families and friends, and we spent time at each other's houses. We didn't even bother knocking before we walked into one another's front doors. We spent nights together and endless hours on the phone. We were in constant contact one way or another for more than a decade.
You were my rock. I knew that no matter what else happened, you would be there. You would listen to me and let me vent and never judge me. You never wanted anything from me except for me. And I trusted you completely.
When my brother died, you were there for me. You didn't leave my side for the better part of a week. When I finally decided to leave my abusive relationship, you were there. Talking me through every step of the way. Showing your support. We suddenly had so much more to talk about. You moved away, but you asked me to come with you. I was too afraid of moving away after my brother's death. So I said no. But I wanted to. I want you to know that.
I was researching plane tickets and moving companies for weeks before you came back. And when you came back, you surprised me. I had no idea that you were even planning on visiting. But I was your first stop after the airport. You held me so tightly in the best hug I've ever had. That was the happiest I had been in months since you'd left. We made plans for later that night and I was absolutely thrilled.
The night was so fun and carefree. We spent the entire evening talking and holding hands. It wasn't awkward or forced, just comfortable like it was supposed to be. When we got back to town, you took me home, and I invited you in. Neither one of us were ready for the evening to end.
When we laid on my bed, things shifted into a new territory. Suddenly everything was heavy and the air was thick.
"I kind of want to kiss you." You whispered to me.
Before I had time to consider what was happening, words were pushing themselves past my lips.
"Do it."
Everything changed then. We were no longer best friends, we were two people who had ignored their feelings for a decade. Two people who finally had no excuses to continue to deny what was really happening. I finally opened my heart to you that night. I stopped strangling my feelings and put it all out there, and I thought you did too. But, we both know how this story ends, don't we?
The next day, I didn't hear from you. And I didn't want to come across as needy. You said that you were concerned that maintaining a romantic relationship would be difficult since we lived so far away, and I agreed. We promised each other that nothing would change, and this would only bring us closer together. But a day of no contact turned into weeks with one-word responses. And then months of silence. I didn't understand what happened. Before I knew it, a year had passed. Someone told me that you were in town, but I never heard from you or saw you.
So I did what I do best, I moved on. Tried not to focus on the fun you were having and posting on social media. Tried not to let it sting when you posted pictures of you with your new best friends. I tried to move forward and focus on myself and my family. But then, the dreams started.
Every night the same one. I would wake up crying because I missed you so much. Why couldn't we still be friends? How could one night have ruined a decade of memories together? So one night at 2 a.m., I wrote you an email. I laid everything out as honestly as I could. I cried while I typed it and I agonized for two hours before I could make myself press SEND. The next morning I checked my email immediately and saw your reply. I want you to know that when I saw it sitting there in my inbox, I was suddenly 16 years old again.
Excited to see you in school, or talk to you on the phone. My excitement turned to confusion when I read your words on my screen. You were uncaring and unconcerned. You said, "I think our entire friendship was leading up to that moment, and that was where it needed to end."
Sex. A decade of being my best friend was the groundwork that had to be laid before we could spend one night together. Really? There is a feeling that briefly passed over your soul when your heart breaks. It's not pain or anger, it's a warning. Like your minds way of warning your heart what is coming.
"Prepare yourself for pain." But I wasn't prepared. All of that time I thought that I had done something wrong. That I had hurt you in some terrible way. But no, I gave you my heart, and you literally threw it away.
I try to see the good in people. But it's true when they say that you can never really know a person. I trusted you and I loved you, and you fooled me into believing that you were worth it. Maybe one day this will be a distant memory and I will be able to look fondly back on the time we spent together.
But for now, I am angry. Angry at you for treating me like an old toy that has lost its appeal. But more than that, I am angry at myself, for trusting you not to hurt me, and then blaming myself when you finally did.
Always,
India
