Notes I’ll Never Send
I feel like I’ve said goodbye to you a million times, but I think this might be it. It’s scary to admit that, because I’m not sure I’ll ever meet someone else who made me feel all the ways you did. I never knew that it was possible to feel so at home with another person until I met you. You might think this is just me being dramatic (classic me), but I am thankful that I knew you, even if it wasn’t completely, and even if it was just for a little while.
I wish I could go back in time and be more for you, because you deserved more than I gave. I took your warmth, and I took your comfort, and I’m sorry that I never consistently gave the same back to you.
I don’t get a lot of opportunities to be the person that you knew. On a regular basis, I’m not as funny or as open as I was in the hours that we spent together. I don’t know why that is, and I’ve wasted so much energy trying to figure out why I could be completely myself when I was with you, but not with anyone else.
Maybe it’s because it always felt like you were on my side, no matter what I was talking about. Or maybe it’s because your eyes never glazed over while you listened to me talk and talk. Maybe it’s because I didn’t always have to fully articulate my thoughts for you to understand what I was trying to say. Whatever it was, if I never find that in another person, I’m glad I found it with you. And I’m sorry that I was so wrapped up in how you made me feel that I never put any thought into how I made you feel.
I could repeat ‘thank you’ and ‘I’m sorry’ a million times, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
Three years ago today we had our first conversation, the one that started everything.
Two years ago today we hadn’t seen each other in over a month, and wouldn’t see each other for another month and a half.
One year ago today you woke up in my bed in the room I grew up in.
Today you’ll be with someone else.
I went to donate blood today and the nurse who had to prick my finger to check my hemoglobin levels commented on how warm my hands were, which is weird for me, and it made me think of you.
I miss the comments you’d make about how cold my hands and feet were, even in the summer. I miss having you close enough to feel how cold my hands are, and I miss you holding them to warm them up, even though it never really worked.
I remember one time in my car, in the middle of January when it was -22 degrees outside, when you grabbed my hands and tried to act like it was weird that they were so cold. You told me it must be because you made me nervous, and I asked why you would make me nervous, and you didn’t answer.
You were right, though. You always did make me nervous. My stomach always twisted tighter and tighter the whole time I drove to wherever you were meeting me, and as soon as I saw you it felt like the tension that had been building up was released. It was like holding a huge breath for 30 minutes and then finally being able to let it all out.
There are so many little moments every day that I wish I could tell you about. I don’t know how to get my brain to understand that you’re not my person.
I feel like I was doing okay for a while, but today is just not going that well. Some days it’s easier to forget about you, and other days you’re all I can think about. The version of you that I miss is not the person you were in the last year, it’s an earlier version that slowly faded away, but that early version of you is all over my brain on days like today.
I made it worse by reading old messages you sent me, where you called me a good person and told me I was funny and smart, and it feels like you’re the only person who has ever, and will ever, see those qualities in me. And then it hits me that you didn’t like me even though you said I was a good person and funny and smart.
Were you lying? Was anything you ever told me real? Why was I still not good enough? Did anything about the two-and-a-half years we spent as friends mean anything to you, or did you forget me easily? I have so many questions I wish you could answer honestly, but I don’t even know if I could believe you if you answered them.
On days like today, I don’t know how to keep moving on when I don’t know the difference between what was important to me and what meant nothing to you.
I wish I could say that I don’t still have random thoughts about you flow through my mind, but that would be a lie. It’s making me hate myself. I don’t understand why I just can’t get my brain to let go of you. You probably haven’t thought of me since our last conversation in December, and I’m over here thinking about you all the time. The smallest things still remind me of you. I feel like I spend my days trying to avoid these tiny bombs that trigger thoughts of you.
They aren’t even particularly good thoughts. A lot of the time they just become these flashes of what I would do and say if I ever saw you again, and I’m just angry. I’m so angry about how you treated me and how I let you treat me. It’s overshadowing all the good times we had. All the times you told me I was smart or funny or pretty have just become lies in my mind, and it makes me angrier that you used those things to get more out of me before you threw me away. I don’t wonder anymore if you meant those things, I just feel like you didn’t.
But I still can’t make you go away.
It’s been a year since we last saw each other, and I’m still here, full of things I wish I could say to you, but I’m finally starting to find it less overwhelming to sort through all the thoughts in my head. I’m done with dissecting every moment we spent together and trying to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. As far as I know it was real at the time, and you meant what you said in those moments, and you just don’t feel that way anymore. And that’s okay.
Thank you for being the person I could talk to about Rick Nash, The Flash, and everything in between. I’ll never forget the fact that you made me feel like I mattered, even if it was just for a few hours at a time. When all is said and done, and I forget about all the nonsense and how stupid we could be, the thing I hate the most is that we’re not even friends now. But not every friendship is meant to last a lifetime.