Half my life I have adored you. You were always someone I trusted, someone I dared not to see my life without, someone I was forever drawn to no matter what life handed us. I knew I could always count on you. I knew there was something between us no one could take away. You were a dear friend.
I always believed there was something more between us. I felt it. We never stepped over that line though. We were never really given that chance. You had your life and I had mine. When you were single I wasn’t and vice versa.
–Then all of a sudden life threw in some twist and you, my dear friend, were there. I loved the fact that one of my dearest and oldest friends was there for me. I loved that my friend had my back and vice versa. It tickled me to death to see a message come in from you. I really just enjoyed the friendship. We talked a lot. Then one day we talked about feelings. We talked about what we have always felt and what we were feeling now. Then all of a sudden we took it a little further.
Was it right? Should I be doing this? Does he feel the same way? Why are we doing this? I shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t want to feel any way about any man right now. Why do I crave his talks, his voice, his touch? Why do I want him? Is it because I want attention? Is it because I am lonely? Why? I’m not lonely. I definitely don’t want attention. I need to stop.
Oh but I couldn’t because I did. I did crave your attention. I craved your touch. I craved your company. It wouldn’t go away. I tried. I tried so hard to avoid messaging you. I tried so hard to not want you.
Then one night I went to talk to you. You know, just friends hanging out. It was so relaxing and calming. I felt so comfortable being right there with you. Then you kissed me and your hands touched me. I can’t explain it but in your arms felt like home. It was something I hadn’t felt. It felt so comfortable, and honestly it scared me.
After that night, I yearned for your touch, your voice, your talks, your arms, your laughter, your disagreements, your argumentative political talks, your dreams. I yearned for YOU.
We spoke of feelings, of dreams, of hopes, of vacations, of moving, and of life. I knew deep down you didn’t feel the same though. I hoped and I wanted. BUT my own feelings got in the way of what was really going on.
I was falling in love with a dream. I was falling in love with a masquerade.
You knew how I felt. You knew I didn’t want it to be sex. We were more than that and I wasn’t going to be that with you. I was your friend, and I didn’t want to lose what we had. I wanted something special.
I wanted you to want me. When I say I wanted you to want me, I wanted you to desire my companionship, my friendship, my laugh, my cry, my bad jokes, my stubborn beliefs, my quirkiness, my company. I wanted you to want me. I wanted it so bad and I didn’t want to see how much you didn’t.
One night we were talking and decided to hang out. We drove all over the place. For some reason I felt like I was in a kaleidoscope. I felt free and safe. I felt at home. My intentions that night were to be with my friend and just enjoy each other’s company. I wanted you to want me in so many other ways. I wanted you to fall in love with me.
You had to start touching me. I stopped you so many times. I didn’t want to destroy us. I wanted you to want me. Not sex. I wanted you to want ME. God your touch felt so exhilarating. It became harder and harder for me to stop you. It became harder and harder for me to not want you in every way.
I brought you back to my place. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t expecting it. I was so intoxicated with your touch, it was euphoric. It was something I never experienced.
When it was said and done, you walked away. And within days my eyes were open.
I am nothing to you. I was the one thing I never wanted to be to you. I lost respect in you. I lost a friend in you. I lost a sense of feeling like I could trust my heart. But most of all I felt so dumb for ignoring all the signs that were there before I let it happen.
You felt like home. I dreamed of you for years. I dreamed of that feeling throughout my life. I hate to admit, I let you in my heart.
I don’t blame you. I am not mad at you. I don’t hate you. I just wish you were the friend I believed you to be. I hate that I lost that. That hurts more than anything because I believed in that.