I love you, I’ve always loved you. Since the first time I ever saw you. Not when we met in the park the night that you ended up coming home with me, but since that day when our eyes locked as your bus was pulling into our high school. Our eyes locked and It felt as if time slowed down, like we were the only two people in the world. I didn’t know you yet, but I swore in that moment I knew everything about you, like I’d known you my whole life.
Every time we were together after that it felt as if time slowed down. Maybe it was time’s way of giving us as much time together to make as many memories as possible. I thought I had the rest of my life to make as many memories with you as possible. We were young, I was naïve. But when I was around you, I felt like I was alive. You made me feel as if electricity was running through my veins. I had never felt the way I felt about you about anyone up until that moment in my life. It scared the living shit out of me. What if I confessed how I felt and you left me. I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything until I was sure. I never could have imagined that I would never get to tell you how I felt.
It didn’t help that your mother despised me and everything I stood for. She was tearing us apart and I know you knew it. You promised me you would do what ever it took to be with me, that you wouldn’t let her come between us. So why did you lie to me? Why did you tell me she liked me when clearly she didn’t? I would’ve believed every single word that poured from your lips as truth. So why couldn’t you be honest with me? And why after everything we had been through up to that point did you say nothing when I phoned to confront you about what she had said? All you said was “okay”. Do you know how much that hurt? Do you even care. I respected your mother’s wishes, and I convinced myself what I was doing was right, because we were so wrong for each other.
But we were perfect for each other. Didn’t you see it to? And I kept everything that was happening to myself. Even the baby. I wanted so much to phone you and tell you, but I couldn’t. And when I miscarried I wanted to tell you. So that you would be in as much pain as I was. But I didn’t because I didn’t want to hurt you. Because it is was killing me. Couldn’t you tell?
I tried to kill myself after I lost the baby. I was losing grips I was losing my mind. Usually I was so in control. But I had no control over how I felt and no matter how much I pushed it down or tried to drug it or drink it away. It always fought its way to the surface stronger than it had been before. You were the best and worst thing that ever happened to me.
I moved on. I moved to another city, met someone else got engaged. And when I heard you were dating an old friend of mine. As much as it hurt, I was happy for you. Because I wanted you to have what I couldn’t give you.
When I got pregnant with my son, I thought I had finally moved beyond anything you and I had ever had. I almost entirely forgot you existed for awhile. When my fiancé left me for another woman, it was all that consumed my life. How was I going to raise my child? Why wasn’t I enough? But the remnants of you lingered in my mind.
By the time my son came you were a memory. I had everything I could’ve ever wanted in my life. Good friends, family and a healthy baby. But then all that was taken from me when I lost my son. I fell apart. I moved back in with my parents and tried hopelessly to piece my life back together. And then here you are again hanging out with my sister-in-law, moving back to our town. I couldn’t believe god could be so cruel. So I ignored it. Because your memories just brought me pain I couldn’t begin to cope with on top of the pain I was already feeling. And besides anything to do with us had run its course. All that remained were bitter sweet memories.
So why did you have to reach out to me? Why did you feel the need to contact me on Facebook? Better yet why did I add you. How stupid can I be to think we could be friends. But part of me did. And for a while it seemed as if we could be. But you had to drag up the past. So I played along, reminiscing on a mis-spent youth. It only made the wounds deeper. And when you talked about coming to see me and I played it off as a joke, I was praying you meant it. I needed something, anything. I just wanted to know I meant half of what of what you meant to me to you. But you played games. Childish immature games. I don’t know why I expected different. But I did. I expected you to be the kind, gentle 17 year old boy that you had been. But you were cold and bitter.
I tried to avoid talking to you, or exchanging e-mails. But after awhile I fell back in to the web of you. And all those feelings I denied were anything more than a infatuation a longing a pining rose to the surface. I convinced myself that maybe this would finally be closure. That maybe we could be adults about it and talk about what happened. I needed you to vindicate me. But instead of closure, instead of mature conversation and joking about how stupid we were as kids. I wasn’t even going to bring up all the things I’d never said back then. No instead of ending that chapter in our lives, you tell me that you’re in love with my sister-in-law and that you have been for years. I know you may not consider what we had important per say, but I did, and it killed me all over again to hear you say that you loved my brother fiancée, that you would never make a move but that you were happy for them. I knew all too well that being happy for someone didn’t make the feelings any less real. I knew all too well. But I understood. I rejected you and she was there. Unattainable. And we all want what we can’t have. I get it. I mean I carried a torch for you for 5 years. I get it. You can’t choose who you love, the heart wants what it wants. This makes gods cynical sense of humour all the more relevant. But I stand by how I feel, even if you’ll never feel the same way. You only meet someone like you once in a lifetime. And what you take away from the experience is purely up to the sequence of events and the situation. But I knew I would love you forever from the moment I first saw you, and the more I deny it the more blatantly obvious it becomes I love you, I will always love you. Even if you never know. It doesn’t change the way I feel. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. We just weren’t meant to be. And I can live with that.