Today has been one year since the day when I revealed said feelings to you. This last year has been a long one and a strange one, especially when it comes to you. Yes, a lot of how I feel has been said in blogs I've written or poems I've written (you didn't know about those, soz), or even in the indirect passive aggressive tweets I write. However, there's still some stuff to get off my chest, and since I've been reflecting on you the whole of this weekend anyway, I figured that writing you a letter may do me some good.
I remember being at your house in the early hours of the morning (well more, super late hours of the night before but ya know, same thing), and I remember your housemate, my dear friend, telling me that tonight was not the right night to tell you. I remember knowing deep down that I had to get it off my chest then or I was going to explode. I remember hyping myself up, the adrenaline building and my heart beating faster and faster as each person left and the time to tell you drew nearer. I remember contemplating different ways of telling you; some of which definitely involved Parks and Rec references. I remember my defeat and disappointment when that one last person wouldn't leave and I conceded into going home. I remember the whole car ride home knowing that I had mentally prepared myself to do it now, and I had to, whichever way I could. I remember the feeling of my heart caught in my throat as I typed out the text and re-read it a million times before I eventually clicked send at 04:26 on that fateful day.
I remember how flipping long that day felt waiting for a reply. I remember talking to my friends, telling them that I'd done something really stupid, and I remember their support as I waited.
I remember lying on my bed when your reply came through, a whole 13 hours since I'd sent mine. And I remember reading it over and over as the reality settled in that you weren't interested. I remember feeling weirdly comforted and grateful by the words in your text, and those signs of friendship that showed that you really cared. And I remember saying just how lucky I was that it all went so well. I had a great night that night, I felt free and relieved and genuinely okay. I meant every single word that I wrote about it.
I didn't cry, you know? I don't care if you believe me or not, but I promise you; I didn't cry about it.
Anyway, I don't want to write about then, I want to write about the year that followed. Because we're not friends anymore. Haven't been for a long time. And I've really, really struggled to come to terms with that. In fact, I still struggle. We were fine, weren't we? We genuinely still seemed okay after I told you. Sure, you seemed a bit more cautious, but we were still close. And then one day, we just weren't, and you pushed me further and further away.
The truth is: You broke my heart. However, it's not for the reason you'd expect. And this is something you don't get, and something you've never seemed to have understood- so I'm going to lay it out, crystal clear:
You didn't break my heart when you didn't feel the same way; in fact, that was the bit that hurt the least.
You broke my heart when you told me that things didn't have to change, yet they did.
You broke my heart when you told me that you were "happy that we're friends cos I get on with you really well", yet you then pushed me further and further away when I admitted that I wanted to be something more, even though I told you that I understood that you didn't want that.
You broke my heart those endless amount of times where you ignored me or blanked me or made a dig at me or moved away when I sat near you when we were together with our mutual friends.
You broke my heart when I heard all our other friends praising you and drooling over you and I saw that they still got to have you in their lives when I didn't; even though others that I knew felt the same way I did, but because you never knew, they never had to go through what I went through, and I hated myself because I was honest and ruined things.
And despite all that heartbreak, ache and the pain, cos man it hurts so much, I still haven't given up on you. I still have your back through everything, and I am still always here for you, and I hope that you've realised that by now. A lot of people have asked me why I just can't get over it, and the truth is, I'm still not completely sure.
I used to think that the reason that I couldn't give up on you was because of who you are and the fact that I still love and care for you deeply. However, I'm starting to think that my inability to stop caring about you actually says a lot more about me than it does about you. We've both heard the phrase before "why cross oceans for people who wouldn't jump puddles for you?", and we both know that Jesus calls us to challenge this and keep crossing oceans for those people who stand still, so I'll keep trying to do that.
Over the last year, you have made me feel happy, sad, frustrated, alone, betrayed, elated, awed, inspired, understood, angry and other emotions I don't even know if I can put into words. Quite honestly, I didn't even know that I could feel that much, so congrats on making me feel more than anyone else in the world. Whether that's for the better or the worse, is yet to be seen.
Maybe in the next year we'll find our way back to some semblance of friendship; maybe we won't. Either way- I'm here for you, and I will always will be. I don't want to be with you anymore, but I still love you. At the end of the day, as Little Mix sing in such an epic way, "You made my heart break and that made me who I am."
Thanks for making me who I am, and I really hope that one day we'll both be able to move forward.