What I wish I would have said to my ex-very close friend and previous love. Don't get me wrong, we kissed once, that was it; we had no relationship to speak of, but used to hang out all the time and had amazing conversations over coffee. He loved me for a year and a half. He wanted to date me and have me as his own. I didn't know what I wanted. I knew he made me feel amazing and uplifted, but I didn't want to hurt him, as I have a good track record for messing up good boys.
One night after coffee and movie we ended up back at my place. We cuddled up on the couch and shared the most pure and innocent kiss of my life. I started crying. I never cry in front of people. I couldn't do it. I could not allow myself the utter bliss of being with him.
The week after was torture. I pretended nothing happened even though my head was reeling, and he got burned. Shortly after he wrote an essay about me. In it he stated,
"She torments me. I think of her always. I can’t tell you why, because even I don’t know why. Maybe it is because I gave her a very big chunk of love that I have given no one else. Now that won’t be together, she still has the chunk, so it is hard for me to break free from the emotions I once felt for her. I need that piece of emotion back from her to carry on. The only way to do that is to continue with what I had hoped would happen the Saturday night, and we would be happily together. Or if I could forget her entirely, that piece of caring and love would come back to me because it will loose its home with her."
He also promised me on several occasions that we would still be good friends. It was relieving, but I knew eventually he would come to loathe me. Perhaps my expectation of this caused it. Perhaps it was my utter stupidity in relationships involving myself, but as time past, we lost touch, and he began to eschew me, and continued eschewing me as I attempted to patch our friendship. I apologized repeatedly and did everything in my power to restore even the littlest bit of warmth. I knew it was my fault; I tried to fix it. I am a very persevering person and extremely stubborn, but he beat me. I gave up.
It has been nearly a year since this occurred, and our conversations are merely head nods of acknowledgement. I ran into him this evening at our old coffee house. He was with his current girlfriend and a close friend of mine. I was alone. I was talking with his girlfriend and mentioned joining them for a little bit before I headed out. He told me coldly and efficiently that they were having alone time this evening, his unequivocal dislike for me shining unguarded through his eyes.
As I left, I remembered his essay. I no longer need his chunk of dead flesh, which I once did love and care for; he is welcome to reclaim it at any time.