I started writing this once, and today I’m going to try again.

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but at least it will be out there. It would be the second letter I’ve sent you in a year, and in a few words… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for wanting more than you could give, but I'm not sorry for how I feel. I miss you. I miss having you in my life and it’s heartbreaking that you no longer are. It's sad that six years of friendship ended, and that after all that time, our friendship wasn’t strong enough to stand under the weight of me and my feelings. Originally I had called them stupid, but they’re not. I may have thought they were once, but my feelings are not stupid. Even if I had the opportunity to go back, I still wouldn’t change the way things played out. I was suffocating under the weight of those feelings. I needed to get them out because they were actually driving me crazy. So I pushed, because I was drowning under the weight of it all. It’s not an excuse. I can’t make any of this better, not the fights, or the distance, or the way we all felt while it fell apart.

But I can tell you that even though I knew it was stupid, and would most likely end with me losing my two best friends, I don’t regret it for a second. If I hadn’t spoken up, I’d still be holding it all in, letting my own feelings crush me every freaking day. What good would that have been? How was I supposed to go through my life like that? I can’t hide things from the world like you can. I can't push them beneath the surface and ignore them until I’m somewhere I can let them out safely. I can’t separate them in my heart and pretend they’re not important to me. It was just you there in my heart, the blood coursing through my veins…maybe even in my soul. I wanted something I knew I couldn’t have.

I know I need to move on, and trust me I’ve been trying, and I’m sure you did a long time ago, but I think to do that I have to ask for your forgiveness. I have to see where your head is at, because I need to break the silence before I can close this chapter of my life. I don’t want to close it, but I know it’s probably in someone’s best interest. I’m glad you’re all still happy(ish) without me, and for the most part I am too. While the selfish part of me is holding out for some miracle, I’m not going to stop living while I wait for it. So I wish you nothing but happiness and success, and I hope someday you find what you’re really looking for. And if I’m it, come home. If it’s not me, she’ll be something really special.

I want you to know I do still love you, not just because I looked forward to your conversations the most to brighten each day, but also because of the dark pieces of yourself you hate. It wasn’t just your light I loved; it was your dark too. It was your cynicism, your sadness, your bitterness, because I felt it too. You knew me, the parts that everyone hates, and you loved me despite them, even when they irritated you. And I knew you too, the parts you didn’t think anyone understood. I would give anything to have you back in my life. Even after all this time.

I thought one letter would be enough, silly me. My head has been one giant letter since I left your life. There are so many things I want to tell you. I love you. I miss you. I’m so goddamn sorry. And I still wonder why you hurt me. If you loved me HALF as much as you said you did, as he said you did, as you acted…I still wonder why.

The thought of not waking up to your face is painful. Not having you in my life is painful. Knowing you’re out there, existing, without me hurts so badly I can’t put a name on the feeling. You’re on my mind when I wake up, when I’m driving, and when I’m trying to sleep. It’s always fucking you. I don’t know if you’re it for me, but I hope to God you are. And I hope he brings you back to me. I hope you want him to bring you back to me. I want you to love me, to choose me, and most importantly to do what makes you happy. I thought maybe I could be that. You were my favorite part of every day. You were my best friend. I didn’t care that he told you he’d marry me. I only cared that you knew I wouldn’t. That I’d marry you. Always you. So come home if you want to. Because when I’m in your arms, I am home. I feel calm with you, a serenity that can’t be replicated, an anchor for my soul, and roots for my dreams. When my hand is in yours, I feel like I’m the safest I will ever be. When your lips touch mine, I feel you in my soul. Is that scary? Yes. Am I waiting for you? Maybe, I don’t know. All I know is I think about you constantly. I can’t get you out of my head. You crawled under my skin a long time ago and I’ll never get you out. Honestly, I don’t want to.

I want you lying in bed next to me, kissing me goodbye at the door before you go to work, making dinner, and dancing in the kitchen at midnight. I want to connect with every piece of your soul. The darkness and the light. I’ve given you the invitation, and I thought that’d be enough to help me move on. Truly, I did, but I think it’s possible I should accept what I’m starting to see. I won’t ever be over it, not really. I mean, hey, never say never, right? I don’t see it changing. No one has stirred my soul the way you do. I want to be your crazy, beautiful, pain in the ass girlfriend that your mother loves and your father adores. I want you. I just want you in my life so fucking bad. So this is it, I guess. I’m sure it won’t be the last you’ll hear from me and my mental letters, but it is the end of this one. No matter where this crazy road trip of life takes us, I’m always down to be your shotgun.