tracypoldark Rey Angelo

A brief chapter of my life that tells what could have been and never was.

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And we were happy ever after?

I wanted to start saying that I don't know if I will have met the love of my life, but I've always thought so. I would not know how to define what true love is but from my point of view, I could say that it means everything that only a person can give you, which makes you happy that you only find in one person. Many people can give you a lot of love but only the one you know can give you what no one can.
I am not going to deny that sometimes I feel crazy and strange about my feelings because I don't understand how it is possible to continue loving someone you haven't seen for seven years, but I can't pretend, and when I am alone they come to me like a hurricane in my brain, like memories and I replay them on and on since my head blows up, obligate me to stop thinking for a while and let my mind rest since they come again. Most of the time I dry my tears after that and fall asleep next hoping not to dream at all, just sleep until sunrise.
Some people say that if you dream with someone you love is because that person is thinking about you too, well if that's true he has to dream of me almost every night and think of me too because I dream so many times with him, but that's unlikely. Perhaps it's what I want to believe.
I've been in love for seven years and I feel the same since that moment. When I was younger and met him for the first time I never could imagine that love will last until now. I could think that with time would heal but even now that I don't see him every day, like before in high school, still thinking about him almost every day. I am worried about seeing him on the streets and don't know how to act or what to say, feeling stupid thinking if he feels the same as me, but probably he thinks nothing, just that I am an old friend from high school. For me, he is more than an old friend, in my head, I still remember that fucking summer. Our conversations ending with hearts emojis at night, he sending me messages and I running to my phone to check that it was him, like I suspected, and smiling like a fool when it was him.
Maybe I was always wrong with this friendship, everyone has told me that perhaps I have misunderstood the feelings, but they don't know what I lived with him.

Shyness ruins most situations in life and this case probably ruins it and because of it the question that he did to me be never answered. At least not with the truth. That question is stuck in my head: ''Are you in love with someone?'' and I always wonder what would have happened if I had answered his name instead of NO ONE. I asked the same question to him and he responded equally to me and I can't blame him, I did the same. I never knew why he asked me that question or what did he expect me to answer. Shyness, maybe we were afraid of lose our friendship because of love. We could have taken the risk and answered with the truth but we finally decided still to be friends and not even as friends we were together at the end.
Sincerely, deep in my heart, I always knew that I was going to lose him, but it was not what I wanted. Years in high school were passing by and I was more afraid of losing him because what would happen when there were not more high school? Would we keep in touch?.
My fears finally coming true and we no longer saw each other. Seven years since the last time I spoke with him. Not a message, not a goodbye. I don't even remember the last thing we said, I don't know what happened. That makes me think that he doesn't love me as I do, but I can't deny that he was my first love and even if it wasn't a lasting love it was the first and nothing produces as much pain as first love, more so if it is not reciprocated.
Maybe the story is incomplete and so it is, there are many things that I have not told about our relationship. We were great friends that could have been something else. Now that I think about it, I don't know if I had bet on something more than friends. I've always believed that friendship is more lasting than love. In the end, I got nothing, just a memory of what we were. This is how it ends. Perhaps at another time, I can tell how it starts.

13 Décembre 2019 17:02:51 1 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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