Dear Isobel

letter seven

Dear Isobel,

                Sometimes I wish you could humour me. That one day you’ll find me in one of our old spots, plonk yourself beside me and tell me that you’ve kind of liked me all along.

                Perhaps you won’t even say that. Maybe you’ll just gently kiss my temple and we’d stay quiet, falling into those silences were nothing really needed to be said because we were always in tune with each other. Things didn’t always need to be said between us.

                But that’s the problem now, isn’t it? There are so many things that need to be said—so many things I want to say, and I can see the words that form but you never get the courage to divulge—but we’ve decided that it’s all better unsaid and is it much better, really?

                So, here. I’ll let you know some of the things I’d like to say:

                Sometimes I see your boyfriend staring at other girls the same way he does you, and I don’t know if it’s because he isn’t interested or because my vision is skewed. When I see you holding onto his hand, I fight the bile rising to my throat and the urge to grab it instead. I’m not very interested in Kenzie, but she is good enough. Even though I know I shouldn’t be doing this to her, I can’t help but do it, anyway. Sometimes, when I kiss her, I think of you instead. And the sad thing is, sometimes I think Kenzie knows and she lets me do it anyway.

                The weird shit that has come about since I realised I was in love with you actually makes me cringe. I use sappy words and I think about you more than a bit and my moral compass wants to slap me. But I can’t imagine not being with you or in your life, no matter how painful or disjointed that time is these days. I can’t.

                I think, most importantly, is that I really miss you. You were my friend first. And I know sometimes I have to push you away, because it gets too hard for me to see you because of this whole shitty love thing, but I wish it wasn’t so hard. I miss us. I miss the laughter and the stupid jokes and the secret smiles and the promise of friendship forever. And that kind of makes the pain worse—that I’ve lost you, your love and your friendship all at once.

Joe.