Kind of hurt myself today… emotionally. That kind of heartache that you can only inflict upon yourself. I am going to tell a story. Perhaps it has bearing and meaning, perhaps it does not. But it is a story, and I just need to tell it.

We were nothing more than friends. Never more. We made passes toward each other, but we always made passes with everyone else. It was just the kind of people we were. The flirts. But the passes kept getting more and more serious. To the point where it became harder to recognize what it was. But we kept it strictly platonic. Or so I thought.

At every party, things would get more intense. We would do things that most wouldn’t say was strictly platonic. But I kept trying to define it. I didn’t think it was real. I do wonder if that was my downfall… I never considered myself attractive. It was hard to parse what reality was telling me. That insecurity never faded…

I wrote a letter. I always did. But this last one… I don’t think it was good. I addressed it as friend… friend… fucking friend. Maybe I wasn’t being honest with myself. Maybe I wasn’t being honest with anyone. It doesn’t matter anyway. We were going to remain that way.

We have a promise to get married someday if we were both single. But I know that those pacts never go through. They never get fulfilled. At least, not in a way you envision when you make the promise. I just know that someday, I’ll look out into the world and see happiness. While I will look in the mirror and see nothing.

It was never meant to be this way. We knew we were friends. But it snuck up on me. I didn’t realize I was falling until I sat up at night awaiting a reply. I guess that’s why they call it falling in love. You never intend to fall down the stairs, something else, some other force makes you do it.

What will I do? Let it sit and boil over? Or finally turn off the stove? What will put out the fire in the kitchen? I can’t lose this friendship. I just can’t. But I know I will no matter what I do, and that’s what haunts me the most.