From time to time I look back on how we became friends. Admittedly, there was an attraction on my end in the beginning. I loath the word “crush”, but so be it. But as time marched on, a pattern emerged. Turmoil defined our friendship. Though I never actually came right out with my life’s woes, I took comfort in our shared discomfort until I began to feel your pain. A graduation of sorts. It wasn’t until I knew It was something deeper that I wished it away.
For a time.
I cannot escape the weight of your pain even though you’ve clearly moved on. I am happy you want to be happy. I’m happier if you are happy. But I still carry your grief inside.
I don’t want to hear that you love me nor need me in your life. But I sometimes wonder if you’re holding on to a piece of me that weighs heavily on your heart and if it hurts you the way it does me. And if that’s why you don’t reach out.