When did you start? When did you realise how you really felt?
Was it that day? Was it London? Paris? Dubai? When I moved away?
I remember moments, their happenings quite insignificant but so clear in my memory because of the power of your silence. The emotions I felt within those few minutes had an overpowering totality. It was before anything, it was just sweet words on the beach to tell you how I appreciated your friendship, or it was seeing you and knowing you were making an extra effort just for me. It was all those things you did seemingly without meaning to that did make me feel special. It’s those little words; big actions that made me love you. But I really didn’t know at the time. I just basked in it all to get me through my days.
Do I know it now? Yes. Now that they’ve stopped? I’m sure of it.
But because we are in such different places in our lives, yes geographically but also around different people, clashing routines, so far emotionally from each other than we have ever been, it’s hard to smile next to you.
Some moments are painful in my memory as your foundations I have trouble with. You have the same right to think that about me, as clearly you have done so, compiled a list, reread it. Your silence in solving our hearts is too cold and bluntly uncaring. Your back-offish compliant nature to things said to me comes across cowardly. And although, it’s none of my business who you are with, I can’t help but feel insulted.
I don’t know where we’ll be by next year, I don’t know if either of us will make the effort to save a windswept, ashen, new-found friendship. I feel like the dust has settled and we just are; equally too scared to hurt even more.
I loved you, I still do. I need you to know this. I’m here if ever you decide to come back, I’m here if you want me to be.