Dear Old Friend,
05 Dec 2010 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized
I recall the words we once exchanged,
“I like you much more than a friend,
but I love you for always being one”
I love you for always being one. I wish I could understand where we went wrong within that sentence. We are hardly friends. Acquaintances, more like. Truth is, I miss you. Not you. And the truth is, things could only be the same if you wanted them to be and I know that you don’t. This is high school, this is life. These are boys, these are girls. This is hormones, this is this and that is that. What’s really sad is that I could never convince you that I only miss our friendship. I tried to tell you once but you interpreted it into, “I want you to be my boyfriend again”. That wasn’t the case. I was hurt badly by you, yes. I could care much less about our deeper relationship. In fact, I wish I could change what happened between us because it might have saved our friendship. I don’t want to believe that you’re the typical teenage boy. You’re unique, witty, and humorous. But your actions speak much louder than words. I love you just as I have loved any other. For any friend I would lose this way, it would be just as hard, maybe even harder. It’s the fact that you’re right in front of me but I can’t get to you. It’s the fact that we shared an awesome friendship that has vanished as if it never existed in the first place. It’s the fact that you’re dating my friend and you could quite possibly hurt her how you hurt me. It’s the fact that things didn’t work out in the end in any way at all. That hurts. We spent a year together, learning to be friends. Picking each other up when one fell. You said I nearly saved your life. You cared in such a genuine and friendly way. All of that, somehow, doesn’t matter to you anymore. I lost you, friend. And I do miss you. I know one day I will look back and understand why things took their place the way they did. But for now, I am afraid that I can’t help but wish we were in our old shoes. Laughing together, coming up with clever non-sense, and lending a hand when needed. I’m sorry that things had to end the way they did. And I’m sorry you’ve become the person I see you as. All good things eventually come to an end. Friend, I pray for you and wish you well.
Love always,
Clara Ann
