I’m in love with you, best friend. As if the scars and bruises weren’t evidence enough. Loving you tears me apart inside and out, and you know that. Our whole relationship is messed up, and sometimes I wish I could change things. But if doing everything I did led me to be your best friend today, then I’m glad I did it.
I wonder if you’ll ever tell your new girlfriend about how you took my virginity two days before you asked her out. I wonder if she’ll ever know you as well as I do from our late night conversations and adventures with each other. I wonder if she’ll feel anything close to the loss I’ll feel when you move across the country in two months. Probably not. Because you have completely and thoroughly changed my life. You have rocked me to my core. I wish I could have some legitimate claim on you, but you’re no one’s to claim. You’re always skittering away, just out of my grasp.
You are a sad, lonely, beautiful boy with more baggage than even me, and in the beginning, I know all I wanted to do was save you. But our relationship has become so much more than just me trying to fix you. It’s become about mutual understanding of each others’ pain. It’s become about support and true concern for the others’ well being. Do you have that with your new girlfriend? You probably never will. Now I know that we tried the whole relationship thing and it didn’t work out. We weren’t meant to be boyfriend and girlfriend. But being best friends and occasionally friends-with-benefits seemed to work out pretty great. It’s impossible loving you and knowing that we’ll never have what we had two summers ago, a simple summer romance. It’s impossible not to feel like I have some right to your attention. It’s impossible watching you forget about me. It’s selfish, yes. But for so long, best friend, you’ve been all that I have.