How many chances do we get in life? For love, friendship, anything. One? Two? None? How can we know if we had that chance?
What if I messed up my chance? Will it be my only chance? For love, safety, and friendship? I’m so scared that that was it-my one chance. And I messed up. I’ll admit it-I messed up. The reason that we’re not friends like we used to be is because of me. I had reasons that, at the time seemed like good reasons to me, but reflecting back on those reasons now, I’m wondering if they were even real reasons at all.
Actually, I think that they were more of just me being me-scared, unsure, insecure, and afraid that I couldn’t take care of myself anymore. It felt so incredibly undescribably amazing to have someone make me feel so safe. I don’t remember ever feeling as safe as when I was talking to you. Even if we were just texting-you made it safe. Scary movies were no longer scary. Funny noises at night meant nothing. Because I was talking to you. Even if you weren’t physically there, you weren’t going to let anything happen to me. I could watch the scariest shows on tv and fall asleep knowing that because you said you wouldn’t let anything happen to me, I was going to be ok. It was one of the best feelings in the world.
But that’s what worried me. I pride myself on being a very independent person. I can take care of myself and I at least try to always be strong. I’ve had a lot of hurt in my life, and I’ve had to be strong to get through it. But you took care of me and you were strong for me. And that was beyond amazing. But I began to wonder if I could still take care of myself. I know that that may sound silly-but it’s how I felt. That’s why I stopped texting you. I had to know that I could get through the tough times without you. I know now that it was a mistake-I shouldn’t have just stopped texting you. That was wrong, and I never ever meant to hurt you. I should have just told you that that’s how I felt, and I think that you would have understood. But I’m me and, as you know, I’m not the world’s best communicator when it comes to sharing my feelings. I will never be sorry enough for doing that-I ended our friendship accidentally (as silly as that may sound) and I regret it every day.
I was scared that you would dump me, too. So I beat you to the punch. That’s what I’m scared about with everyone, and that’s how I deal with it. When I saw that that girl posted on your facebook about how she wanted to be best friends with you again, I began to wonder how much I ever really meant to you, if anything. Because you meant the world to me.
I miss you. I don’t miss a lot of people. I don’t need a lot of people, and I don’t want a lot of people. But I want you. I don’t think that you ever understood how much you truly meant to me. That’s probably my fault-I should have told you how incredibly special you are to me. You made me realize that it’s possible that there are some good people out there. Or, maybe you’re the only good guy out there. And maybe I messed up my chances with you. If that’s the case, then it’s my fault.
I don’t know when I’ll wake up and not think of you every day. I miss you soo much it hurts. I don’t care that much about many people, and I don’t know how much it will mean to you, but I really care about you, and I probably always will.
And of course I may never get the chance to say this to your face, but I really hope I do-I love you. And I miss you. And I wish you the best.