I guess it’s probably a surprise that I am writing this. How long has it been now? 2 years? It’s kinda crazy how every now and again you still cross my mind, leading me to wonder how you’re doing. Is your life everything you dreamed it would be in high school? How are you adjusting to living in another country? Are you happy? Do you ever, even once in a couple months, think about me too?
I can honestly say you were the first guy that I felt truly and completely comfortable with. I was never afraid that you were going to judge me. I knew I could trust you with anything. You felt, as cliche as it is to say, like home. Thank you for that, you showed me that I was important. You taught me that just because life gets fucked up sometimes doesn’t mean that it’s terrible. You inspired me to keep going and always found a way to make me smile with that crazy sense of humor that you had. I can still hear the way you used to say my name and it still, to this very day, makes me smile.
You’d think that with all the positive memories, I would find a way to merely smile at what happened and move on. But for some reason, I can’t. It’s like when your mom tells you to clean your room and you don’t really want to, so you cram as many shirts into the drawer as possible. But then, the drawer won’t close, and you push and push but it never fully closes. That’s what my memories of you are like. I try, try, so hard, to file them away but I just can’t.
I think it’s because you never told me how you felt. We never talked about our feelings, never truly opened up, never talked about an us. It was flirting and light hearted laughter that filled the store and then hushed, secret texting conversations in the middle of the night. It was fun and silly and deep and real and it hurts. It still fucking hurts. For something I have learned, is that not knowing how someone truly feels about you will kill you. The what ifs still keep me up at night.
Maybe we were too young to know what we were doing. Maybe you never liked me at all and I read the signs all wrong. Maybe gossip and drama and stupid people at work got in the way. Maybe I was all wrong. Maybe, it was so right but we screwed up…
Whatever it was, I just want you to know that I did care about you. I did trust you. I did love joking around with you. I feel as if I saw the real you and loved it. And I do know that if I got the chance to go back and do it all again, I’d tell you. But unfortunately, we don’t get the luxury to travel back in time to fix our mistakes.
Thanks for the memory, for the laughs, for the love, for the understanding and for the pain. For I am sure that somewhere in this whole mess, there is a beautiful lesson to be learned.
And I am sorry for taking you for granted for so long. I never truly knew what I had until it was gone.
Lots of love and nothing but the best,