Where I write about my friend
I've been thinking a lot about a friend of mine lately. They used to be my best friend, and have been my ex several times over. It's the type of relationship that sounds chaotic when I try to explain it to anyone, but it has always made a strange sort of sense to us. They're one of the kindest people I know, and even after everything that's happened between us, I'm so grateful they're still in my life.
We met as teenagers thanks to a boy who ended up being a horrible person, but he introduced me to someone who mattered far more than he ever did. Somewhere in the middle of all of the messy teenage drama, we were falling for each other, even if neither of us had the courage to say it out loud. What started from a messy situation turned into something vibrant and bright. We realized what we felt for one another was something neither of us had experienced before; instead of labeling it, we just fell in love. We fell into each other with a recklessness and hope only teenagers can manage.
As we got older, we kept circling back to each other. We tried dating more than once, because that pull between us never went away. And every time it fell apart spectacularly. There were years we didn't talk at all, and then one of us would reach out again, convinced that this time would be different. We thought we had grown, healed, matured enough to break the cycle. But no matter how much time had passed, we would slip back into the same patterns and hurt each other again. It stings to love someone so deeply and still not be able to make the relationship work.
They've always haunted the background of my life in a way I can't fully explain. I can't hear a song without wondering if it matched us (and throwing it in one of dozens of playlists). I can't read a book without wanting to send them a quote that hits just a little too close to home. They played such a crucial part in shaping how I view connections and longing, in the way I view myself. Even when we're not speaking, they linger at the edge of my thoughts.
Lately, I've been trying to keep things calm and steady. I want to be a friend to them, a real friend who doesn't get swept away by old feelings and patterns. I want to talk to them without a fear of breaking something fragile between us. I want us to stay, in a way that doesn't hurt either of us. I want them in my life in whatever way they can manage, because I've never learned how to accept losing them completely.
They are my best friend, even if I know I'm not theirs, and now that feels alright. I'm just grateful they still exist in my world, even after everything that's happened between us. Some people stay in your life in whatever form they can, even if it isn't simple and tidy. And no matter how messy our history is, some connections are always worth holding on to.