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I knew he loved someone else, he told me, and it made me mad. He told me I was just jealous. I wasn’t, I was threatened. He didn’t belong to me, but he was mine. Another girl couldn’t have him, that would disrupt my order. He was mine to talk to, mine to laugh with, mine to tease, and vice versa. My possessiveness and constant questions started to wear on him, I could tell, but I didn’t care. He would never, could never, turn his back on me; we’d been friends for far too long for him to just forget about me for some new fling.

He was my best friend, my rock. He got me. I loved him, but not like that. I’d tell myself that until I believed it. He started acting weird a few days after he told me, then I was really confused. He was hiding from me, it was so easy for me to tell, for I’d always been able to read him. I felt him pulling away from me, and I became so bitter. Why would he be acting like this? His new girl is taking up his mind, so he has no more room for me. Figures. I bet she is pretty. She probably has a nice laugh, and isn’t as loud as I am. Before he could forget about me, I decided to forget about him. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me that way.

I was so snarky and cold, I was the nastiest person you can imagine. I did anything, said anything to hide my true feelings. I regret the things I did. But at the time, I couldn’t see through my wall of envy and pride. Horrible, green-tinged words flowed off my tongue like turpentine. I told him to his face that I didn’t want him, and left him standing there in the rain. He hates me now, he won’t even look at me. I deserve it, I guess. He doesn’t need me, because he has her. But I need him so badly it colors my every thought. I see him still, every single day. Whenever I see him talking on the phone, I wonder if he’s talking with her.

It’s odd what I’m feeling toward him now. I’ve never had this happen to me before. Even though my soul is dying inside, every time I see him laugh, I smile, because I know he is happy. He isn’t happy with me, and my heart is breaking because of it, but he is happy nonetheless. That is all I can hope for, since I can’t hope to have him. He will walk by me in the halls, and he’ll make eye contact for just the briefest second before going back to whatever he was doing. I cherish those moments, just like I cherish every memory I have with him. From his dark brown eyes burning with concentration as he runs, to his hands moving around wildly as he would try to tell me a funny story and I would laugh out loud. I don’t deserve those memories because of the way I acted, but I selfishly hold onto them with all I have, just as I hold onto hope that one day, I’ll be able to side-step my pride and crawl on my knees to beg his forgiveness. Until that day, I’ll be sated with stolen glances at his face during class and running over every memory in my head like a broken record. He’s not mine anymore, and one day I will accept that, but I will never stop regretting. I won’t regret him, I never could, but I regret everything I said to push him away. I regret every day I lied through my teeth. I regret my jealousy of a girl whose face I’ve never even seen. Most importantly though, I regret being too blinded by my own hands to realize I was utterly and completely in love with my best friend.



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