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He was no longer in the crowd. No one was staring at him like he was the centre of the universe. There was a shift. A shiver and it wasn’t a good one. He thought, ‘Friends don’t leave. Friends just don’t leave.’
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Walking past the bedroom to the alcove he found the arms of comfort when the world got too much. He remembered the countless times Clay had found him there. Pulling him back from the edge of darkness and into the light, promising him everything he’d ever need and more. That’s when he saw the envelope. His name scrawled ever so slightly off centre, like so many post-it notes he’d find on her desk, in the only handwriting that brings a smile to his face.
But, as he read the words, his smile started going down, and tears stirred in his eyes.
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“Maybe it wasn’t destiny, maybe it was wrong fate, or maybe it was just all in my head. Maybe it was just an illusion I needed to get through the time I was here. Whatever it was, I’m glad it happened but it broke me in the process. There are pieces of me you’ll have forever and that’s not something I’d ever change. But one day I’ll build new ones, that hold lessons rather than painful scars.
The truth is my heart is in your hands whether I want it to be or not. I often think that you don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. The universe has plans and you have to deal with them. Cruel and harsh. One day I’ll get it back, but you could smash it pieces and you’d still hold every Ace card over me.
This is unbelievably selfish to unload like this but somehow writing it out and not saying it out loud, just makes it real enough to be able to walk away, not in one piece but with some hope that I’ll be able to repair the hole that this made. I hope you can forgive me for this. I wish I had the courage to tell you this to your face, to hear it from me. But as George once said, ‘Living experience is a brutal lesson, but you learn. My god, do you learn.’ I hope that one day instead of hating me for everything I’ve done, you’ll forgive me.
I don’t know when and I don’t know how but it’s taken all of me to even write it out. That’s a lie. I know exactly when and I know exactly how. But some secrets never see the light of day, they fester in the dark, thriving in the shadows. And those ones, like many others, will come with me to my grave.
Maybe I’m a coward for this but there is a part of me that thinks I’m not. But then again, I’ve always run from myself and the truth. So, coward seems like the best word. It’s what I’m good at. Because if there’s anything in this world that I’ve been taught it’s that: my best is never good enough. That’s not on you, it’s just something that’s true.
It’s the messages every day, it’s my words in black and white, clear as day and somehow, they still get lost. It’s the hugs that last longer than they should, saying words that I can’t bear to speak. It’s the way you curl into me that makes me stutter in more ways than just my heartbeat. It’s the way you’d hold my hand when I drove or moved my hair or drew patterns on my skin. Were these things something you did with everyone? I used to think they were only for me. I learnt to shatter that illusion. I used to think that meant I was strong. It didn’t.
There was a moment I knew it would never be and I think that moment was when I decided to write this. It’s thoughts and words in my head, keeping me awake. Ramblings of self-pity and underlying dread. It’s the truth. I don’t want to hide it. But for me, living scares me more than death. So maybe that’s why I ran. Ran away from this, from me and from you. From everything. With the universe as big as it is, maybe there’s a place where we fit. Where we had a chance to be. I’ll hold onto the hope that maybe in that place, I’d be me and you’d be you.
If it’s not here, maybe in another life or maybe never at all. Maybe that’s for the best. Dreams are dreams for a reason. Sometimes they’re just that. Dreams. Not destined to become reality. A fragment of hope, to shine light in the darkest of places.
We’ve always said “I tell you everything” but the truth is I don’t. If I did, you’d already know all this. I hope one day I won’t live in fear and I’ll be free. I’ve always thought I’d be alone my whole life because I’m good at it. I was content with that. Then I met you. Maybe it’s my own flaws that make me feel alone but in some weird way I felt less alone knowing you.
Lonely makes the heart ruthless. I think that sums it up. It’s true. I’ve grown comfortable being lonely and invisible. It’s what I’m good at. I’ve always known I’m not worth anything, I don’t add anything to anyone’s life. Replaceable. Invisible. It’s reinforced so often. It happens all the time. I’m okay with it. Really, I am.
The truth is I’d throw away what I want and so much more for what you want, whatever that ended up being. Sometimes I sit and wonder if that’s all I’m destined for, to be an observer and not someone who gets to experience the ideal of love. I think life can’t possibly be that deep but then how can it be that shallow.
They say the act of meeting your soulmate was five hundred years in the making. Maybe I’m just not there yet. Or maybe I just don’t get that. Because you’ve already found yours and your happiness means more to me than you’ll ever know. If that’s what makes you happy then that’s all I want. I’ve made peace with this and maybe I’ll never know what you really felt for me, but then again, I never told you what I felt for you. I guess that makes us even.
How much do we really know about each other? I could write lists about you. Maybe I should give you more credit because the truth is, I’ve shown more of myself to you than I have to me. I’m just sure you never even noticed. That’s not your fault either, it’s just something that’s true.
Thank you. For everything.
I say, ‘I love you’ and you say, ‘I love you more’. But I tell you every time that isn’t possible.
And now you know the truth. Well, I hope you do. If you don’t, then I guess I tried.
Sometimes I wish you heard those words instead of repeating them.
I’d say best friend but for me you were more than that and maybe all I was, was just a validation and you always knew.
I’m sorry.
From me to you.
Clay. Dream. Lover. Best Friend. Whoever I was or whatever I was to you.
Wilbur. I love you. Correction. Loved you.”
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Wilbur was right. Friends don’t leave, but the love of his life did.