It took me some times to admit it to myself. But, when I saw us in my mind, kissing, touching each other, it was unmistakable.
We can’t be friends anymore.
Everybody else realised it before me. They asked me questions about us, often said how much we looked like a couple, especially when we fought. Your ambiguity towards me gave them even more pointers that I wanted to ignore. How you saw yourself in one of my poems and felt dissappointed when you read her skin colour didn’t match yours. How, when I told you I wanted a partner in my life, you replied you already were. How you realised the man you were dating would never be me.
I shrugged. Told them I was once in love with you but got over my infatuation because you had no interest in dating another woman and I respect that. Said I much prefered keeping you in my life as a friend rather than loosing you. We loved each other. Like sisters.
I never convinced anybody but myself.
I didn’t plan to be in love with you. It just happened, one secret shared after the other, somewhere closer to the end of almost three years of relationship. My feelings towards you got blurred. Nothing seemed clear but one thing : I loved you. But I pretended my desires for more of you didn’t exist so we would stay in a comfortable place together.
That comfort zone is gone now.
It was torture to witness you try so hard to earn the attention of men who didn’t do anything to earn yours. Every love songs you shared with me thinking about them, their words told me about us and how much I wanted this, how much I wanted us, together, lovers, partners. You wanted your forever man and all I wanted was to raise my hand and tell you « I am here ». But I am not a man. I am not what you want, despite you searching for me in another.
In the end, it broke us. The resentment of holding back what I felt just so I wouldn’t make us feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t the root of the problem. But it was certainly the biggest branch in the tree.
I fell in love with you. It happened. Maybe we would have been the same to each other as lovers as we were being friends. Only God knows. I don’t regret what was.
We won’t be friends again.
I can’t deny my own desires anymore. Can’t deny myself. I don’t want to. I don’t mind if we are not meant to share each other’s lives anymore. It’s okay. Life goes on, with or without you. It’s a good life and I find myself blessed to be alive, here and now, listening to one of the last songs you shared with me.
« I’ve got a hundred million reasons to walk away
But baby, I just need one good one to stay »
We are still growing. I’ll grow out of love with you. But for now, I’ll stay in, for I never really allowed myself to be.
It feels good to love someone so deeply. It feels good to know I am still alive and well, with dreams and a purpose in life, despite still grieving that love. I didn’t know grief could be so soft. So sweet.
I’ll savour it to the last drop.