Unwritten Words

Dear Meghan

You crossed my mind today. As you have several times before. Like a little whisper. A passing breeze. And usually, I ignore it. I tell myself its for the best. I'm not fully healed yet. At least I don't think I am.

But today. Today I went to your Instagram. For the first time since August. When I muted your profile so I wouldn't see what's going on in your life. And well, I saw your usual aesthetic photos. And also you and him.

There's like two pictures. Maybe three. And I stared at them in...awe. I don't really know if that's the correct emotion really. I just paused. And kind of had an epiphany.

Our lives were moving on. You had him. You were traveling places together, going on dates, and overall just looking beautiful. Your face full of joy in each picture. Me? I am on the other side of the world. As far away as I possibly could be. Working, meeting new people, learning a language, struggling with my loneliness during a COVID era in a new country.

Our lives were nowhere near what they used to be. We used to meet often. Always for coffee. Since your senses favor it in a way I could never understand and I appreciated that. And you would always drive in that stunning mom car of yours. Since I didn't have a car, or my license. And then we would sit, and talk. Our topics ranging from nothing to everything.

I honestly loved hanging out with you. Yearned for it really. Probably because you are everything I wish I was.

You have this aesthetic of sage green, lit candles, light colored wood, steaming coffee in a mug, cardigans of black and mustard yellow, sunflowers in a vase, vinyl records, cloudy days, and organized journals. That aesthetic embodies you like a blanket, and courses through your veins. You are consistent, loyal, and just warm. I have never met a person that makes me feel like I'm next to a cozy fireplace on a rainy day. But you do.

And your voice. Don't get me started. When you speak, it's like a lullaby. Which sounds too poetic, but it's the perfect metaphor. Your words are always soft, spoken with intention and thought, and they flow off you tongue in melody. It swirls though the air in a way no other voice I've heard does.

And your heart? It radiates Jesus. His kindness, strength, sacrifice, understanding, and love pours out from you. You see the world without judgement, or at least you try not to, and you work to make it better. Every person you interact with, you see. Not just their physical traits, but their souls. And you affirm their existence with gifts only you would think of.

You literally astound me.

And I don't know what drew our coffee dates to be scarce. One year they happened maybe every other week. Then the next year, school became more intense (like it does unfortunately) and your friend group grew to include other people and I started isolating myself. You stopped checking in due to how crazy your life had become. And I stopped reaching out.

And I spiraled.

And you. Well. You fell for him. Like me, and so many others have before. But you were the one he actually noticed.

And I saw it happen right before my eyes. I saw it happen before it even was a thought.

We were driving to get coffee, at least I think. It's a good enough assumption really. And you asked me how I was doing, with all my feelings and stuff about him. At that point, I probably liked him for a year and a half. I told you something along the lines of, "Yeah, it's whatever. I still like him. He doesn't like me. We still hang out and he still confuses me with how he treats me."

I looked over at you, driving. The cloudy sky lighting your warm skin. "What about you? Any boys in your life?" Since we never really discussed your love life before. Mine was all the drama half the time with him.

You gave a wry chuckle. "No." You then said something along the lines of what God is doing in your life right now, with being single and all. And how you're learning to be content in yourself.

And I remember there was a moment where I saw it: you and him. Your two personas fitting perfectly together like puzzle pieces in my mind. And the thought was so clear. Meghan and him would be really cute together.

I didn't think much of it at the time though. The thought drifted pretty quickly. And, now...well I got to say, I must be a prophet or something.

And this past year, in the midst of some of the worst weeks of my college career, I saw the relationship bloom. You and him chatting on the sofas in the hall. Him inviting you to his birthday party. You being in his dorm all the time. Your friend group and his meshing.

I was too focused on myself, and avoiding him, to even think that it was growing though. You never mentioned it when we talked either. So I assumed nothing extraordinary.

Then this past summer the relationship became official on Instagram. And your guys' friends fawned over the picture in joy. And I stared at it with a growing pit in my stomach.

It was...heart shattering. It crushed me. And all these thoughts of betrayal swarmed my mind like an angry pack of bees and they consumed me eagerly. And it wasn't entirely all about you. Most were about him.

In the end, what hurt the most, was just the fact that I felt so dumb. Despite my premonition and what I saw in passing, I never suspected a thing. And nobody said a word about it to me. Not even the people who knew how I felt about him.

There was no warning. No one reached out to me about it. All the while, I spent the past year, struggling with such intense spasms of anxiety and calling him only to be shut down.

He had left me. Whatever meager friendship we had, that I believed we had, he dropped. Whether he realized it or not. But when I was sobbing on the phone. He just told me to go look for help elsewhere.

And you. You left me too. Traded me for him. And for a group of friends that fits you.

And I was left alone. To face my own demons. And I had to pick myself up and call someone else. And it hurt. It hurt so much Meghan. And it was so hard. And I wanted you there. I needed someone there. And the two people I trusted so much the year before had just disappeared from my life.

I felt stupid for not seeing it. For reaching out to him when his heart was elsewhere. For being so fooled into believing that you guys would be there. That he would be there.

And in a rage of emotions, I called you. I needed to know how long this was going on. I needed the details that have been deprived from me. I needed to know why you didn't say a thing to me about it.

And what started as a polite conversation became a sobbing one way phone call. I cried to you for 40 minutes about my pain. It was about halfway through that I realized you had muted yourself. Maybe you left the room for me to talk to myself. Maybe you sat and listened all the way. Maybe you cried too. I don't know. But when I finished, releasing my flurry of anger, sadness, betrayal, and hurt, you quickly ended the call. Too politely in my opinion.

I dropped my phone, realizing I did something stupid. Crying to you, the girlfriend of the guy I currently was ranting about in pure rage and disgust, was the dumbest thing I could do. And it took a few phone calls to other people to get the confirmation I needed: I screwed up.

I called you again maybe two weeks later to apologize. And to learn that I was right, I did screw up. I put you in an awkward position--between being my friend and being his girlfriend.

It was a good talk. We both needed it. And we ended it a lot better than we did before.

And well...we haven't talked since.

Is it just me or are we both avoiding each other? Are we both too busy in our own crazy lives to call the other? Have I even crossed your mind like you have mine?

I want you back.

Lexi