To my someone,
I know you love her. I know she loves you. The thing is, so do I.
At first I wished she’d leave, but it’s actually easier to be around you when she’s here. You two are together, I stay in the box marked “just friends”, and that’s the way it is. I’d even got used to it – to seeing you together and staying quiet, instead putting all my effort into hiding my jealousy, from you and from our friends.
Two years down the track, after a month of self-imposed detox from you, I almost had myself convinced I was over you. Then I find out she’s moving abroad. Permanently. Suddenly the flame of hope that I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to extinguish for months now – no, years – is rekindled, and I’m really scared of getting burned.
I don’t know how I want this to work out. I have strong feelings for you, but I know I deserve more than to be someone’s backup plan. I want to be with you, but she and I have become friends, to the point where she literally cries on my shoulder over your impending breakup, and I’d feel terrible if something I did hurt her. The thought of you with someone else is more than I can stand, and I know that moving abroad and cutting you (and all our mutual friends) out of my life would solve so many problems, but by the same token, I can’t imagine not being around you, and our friends are some of the best people I’ve ever known.
If only I had never called you that afternoon two years ago… We never would have met up, you never would have stretched your arm around me on my sofa, or kissed me after the movie, or said that one line that I remember more than two years later that made me think what I felt might just be mutual.