I Miss You, But I Don’t Know You

It’s an emptiness I can’t quite explain, I used to tell you everything. Spill out all my deepest darkest secrets. I called you to cry because you were the only one I was comfortable enough with to be completely uncased. Ribs cracked open wide, tears streaming from my little heart, that’s what I gave you. All of me in a friendship I can’t even describe. And I was under this impression of a mutual agreement, you and I were one in this fight of life, we had each others backs, we had each others secrets. But how did I get that so wrong?

I ran to you in every scary, new, uncomfortable scenario. I trusted your wisdom and words of advice when it came to relationships, work, friends, you name it! You were my go to. I had your name tattooed on my brain. How did I not see all the lies and deceits?

I cut people out of my life who did you wrong, because in my mind, they did me wrong as well. I ruined relationships with your friendship, because your friendship was more important in the end. I prefaced new relationships with a warning about you, because I almost lost you once. How could I not have noticed that your intentions for me were stained with a selfishness that reeks.

I was able to love you fully because it wasn’t a love I ever had to run from. Your love made me feel endlessly beautiful, because I never had to believe that you would change your mind. There is never a “threat of another” in a friendship like ours. But how could I not realize that this love of ours was unrequited… Unrequited is the worst kind, in a friendship, just as much as in a lover.

Even more swift than your friendship came, you ripped it away. The choices and actions were yours alone. What we built for years was destroyed in a 20 minute phone call. How fitting.

So now I miss you, I miss my best friend. But I don’t even know who you are.

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Uneven Heartache

Whenever someone has the audacity to break your heart, the only truth is in the uneven distribution of pain. The pain is only intensified if the one breaking you is someone you considered a friend.

After four years of knowing someone, or thinking I knew them, I get to be the one enveloped in pain wondering if there is even a sliver of hurt that courses through him.

Four years, several break ups that we supported each other through, dog sitting, concerts, even visits to see me in the hospital, souvenirs from our travels. Happy words of trust and truths, and even the intensity to share ourselves with each other to quiet the loneliness we felt at times. A man I considered a friend above everything else, a man that I felt close to, a man that despite his obvious faults I still searched and found the best in. A man that promised would never hurt me.

When I first met him I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, intoxicated by him, I wanted nothing more than to be near him. It would be clear very early that dating was not a compatible option for us, and I settled for an amazing friend. But a few months ago it came to light that his feelings and wishes for us had changed. I was skeptical… he was engaged.

In only a few conversations and realizations that there was something bigger between us than he could of expected, a break off of the engagement would occur. Words of love and devotion filled the corners of my mind that doubted it, his kiss and ability to surround me with his words cast aside any doubts I had about the faults that I knew existed. Besides, would someone who has opened up so much in the last few years really want to put me through this?

His “cancelled wedding” weekend rolled around and through all of the bullshit that I would have to endure I still thought that it would be me. He assured me of his love, promised that his wishes for us had not changed, and when he finally returned home he wiped away the skepticism again with I love you. He didn’t get married. But that particular I Love You was dripping with a stain of guilt. His voice was different, the look in his eyes was searching for my belief… I knew it was an inaccurate depiction of his feelings so I stood guard.

Information finds me, friends called to tell me his “deactivated Facebook” was very much still there. I had been blocked. But it wasn’t until the link to the wedding album showed up in my inbox that it really sunk in…

He looked so happy…

He lied. He was like everyone else. He hurt me all the same. The only difference was that he had accomplished becoming the worst thing that would be done to me. I have been cheated on, I’ve been lied to, but never in my life could I imagine that this would be real life, that something this intense could actually happen to me. Not by him. He wouldn’t… but he did.

I waited… I put on a face of happy to continue the game. I wanted to confront him in person, I wanted to see the shock on his face when I told him I knew. I wanted an immediate answer for his actions instead of a calculated response that he is so good at doing. I wanted…

I got the shock I so desired, but answers I did not. Excuses of getting in too deep and not knowing how to tell me, exclamations of me knowing he was a bad person, admittance of fault, I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I became like every other guy to you… I’m sorry… give me a chance to fix this… I’m sorry… you’re the only one I care about losing… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I couldn’t think of anything else. The betrayal was so great, my mind was shrouded in rage, my body trembling, I wanted nothing more than to scream… fuck you, you’re sorry my ass. All I could see was he was sorry he got caught. Not a single apology made it to my heart. Not a single apology could make up for the hurt… the hurt from love stolen from me. He didn’t deserve I Love You… he didn’t deserve it.

The words that flowed out of his mouth with ease only made me angrier. He wants to fix it but I struggle with the concept that he was telling the truth then! All the lies and I’m supposed to believe he is really going to fix it? Words fall short to me, I need action, I need to see the actual try instead of the false promises that have burned me thus far. And even though it’s only been a few days, I have yet to see an ounce of try. Once again, an empty promise. Once again, an uneven distribution of pain. It falls on me.

How could you do it?

Uneven heartache is not something I would choose to ever handle. I don’t like to hurt let alone feel this solely by myself. I woke up and smiled yesterday. I don’t know how. I get up and just keep going. I don’t know how. I didn’t cry… he will not get my tears.
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I will not cry over this.