• Dear Faith

    by  • April 24, 2018 • * Safe for Work *, Lost Love • 0 Comments

    Just flat out going to say it, I never stopped thinking about you.

    I realize that sounds ridiculous, and it probably is.

    I don’t want to say it was one of those “wrong time, wrong place” situations, but realistically that feels like what it was.

    You were married, I was in my relationship. Which in itself is horrible. I tried to rationalize how I felt half a million different ways.

    “This is different because you’re not happy with your husband. I’m not happy with my boyfriend. It wasn’t a secret.”

    That was the most frequent. Doesn’t make it right, but here we are.

    We kissed a few times, flirted a lot. A LOT. I thought about you a lot more than I should have. My boyfriend teased me about my “girl crush” and I’d just laugh it off. Pretend he was being silly…

    Then you moved. As in, out of the country, moved. We didn’t talk much, which I blamed on differences of location and not having our third friend as a buffer… you know, the glue.

    I’d push you out of my mind. Until you’d post a picture or something sparked in my memory. Even across the world you still ran through my thoughts.

    Then, one of the rare occasions we did talk, you’d mentioned you were divorcing your husband. For some reason I got excited, there were so many things I wanted to say. Wanted to do. But you were still halfway across the world, and I was still with my boyfriend.

    Out of nowhere, we saw each other again. I’d fallen out of contact with this third friend as well. Though you came for a visit for her, I was invited. She’d even said “I thought you’d want to see her.”

    Part of me wondered if she knew. She did catch us kissing on your apartment before. But the logical side told me she was just being nice. We used to be pretty close, the three of us. Maybe it was that. Probably just that.

    So I went. We flirted, talked…and at the end of the night as I went to leave… you’d asked if I was ok to drive. I hadn’t had much to drink, and even what I had drank was a good 4 hours earlier. Of course I was ok to drive 10 minutes across town.

    Maybe I imagined this part. Or my memory is fuzzy… confused over the years, with what I wanted to happen. But you followed me out, invited me to stay. An invitation that wasn’t yours to give. All for the sake of “if you aren’t up to driving.” I assured you I was fine. And there was that awkward moment where we were just looking at each other.

    After that…my memory is fuzzy. Did we hug? Did we say good night? Who turned away first? I do remember what I felt. I felt lost, and happy, and sad, and nervous. I wanted to say I would stay. Even if I still didn’t stay I did want to kiss you. I knew it was probably the last time I’d see you. And desperately wanted to kiss you.

    Obviously I didn’t. I don’t know if it was fear of rejection. My boyfriend at home. Getting into my own head with over thinking. All I know is that I didn’t.

    So you left again. Eventually moved back to the states. Visited home a few more times, where I didn’t reach out. And still I thought about you.

    Then, my relationship ended. Realistically it had ended years beforehand. We agreed on that. Part of me is embarrassed to admit, but I immediately thought of you.

    For the first time in however many years, I was single. You were single. And here I was, still thinking about you.

    What was I supposed to do with that? Just message you? That could have been a million ways wrong. Creepy was the first thing I could think of.

    Hell, I could have even just messaged you as an old friend like we used to. Just kept the conversation going, exactly what I didn’t do in the past. Maybe I was fixated on you beong the first girl I’d ever had feelings for? Maybe it was just a lingering crush? Maybe it was that I was single and that maybe? Who knows. So I didn’t.

    The longer I waited, the longer I ignored myself. The longer I refused to even take that chance.

    Then you got yourself a new boyfriend. And still I think about you. Wrong place, wrong time. Again.

    After so long, you would think I would have stopped. But I haven’t. I still wonder “maybe one day.”

    I’m not holding out. I’ll probably find someone like you have. Someone who makes me feel the way I felt back then. And it’ll be great and amazing and I’ll be happy.

    But, will I still think of you?

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