Dear old friend,
I'm thinking of you for the first time in a while and missing you. I can't and won't regret protecting myself by ending our friendship, but every now and then I miss you. I'm getting married in October, after 5 years with a partner whom you never met and who mostly only knows the end of our story. She doesn't know all the times you were there for me, all the times we laughed, the fun we had and the support you gave me. I've tried to explain, tell her what you once meant to me, but she only sees how much I was hurt. It's weird to think you've been out of my life for so long that there is this huge part of my life so unconnected from our friendship.
I'm having a rough morning, and I know that were we still friends, you would listen - definitely take my side but probably also give advice and help me understand a different perspective. You were usually good at that, and always good at being a supportive listener who would get angry for my sake. I've never really had another friend like that, someone who wanted to stand up for me. Yet in the end, you hurt me more than almost anyone. And I still miss you. It's not often, but every now and then, I miss having a friend who cared so fucking much. I haven't had anyone like that since, except my partner. I miss having a friend that really loved me. Though if you did really love me, how could you have believed the things you said? I still don't know which would be the bigger betrayal, that you actually believed I was as unworthy as you said, or that you said it only to hurt me. The betrayal shouldn't matter anymore, after more than 7 years. And yet....
I think I'll always love you, at least a little. I'm not good at un-loving people. I hope you're well. I hope you've learned to feel a little kinder toward the world, to see that people can mess up without being undeserving.
I'm getting married, and I wish things were different enough that you would be there. I wish we hadn't fallen apart.
A foolish wish. At times over these years I've felt it was truly inevitable - that I was growing as a person in ways that no longer fit our friendship, that we never could have stayed in each other's lives. But there is still this part of me that feels like we were supposed to be sitting in our rocking chairs next to each other 50 years from now, drinking tea and reading quietly, just existing side by side. Two peas in a pod.
I'm getting married and despite everything, despite how little it makes sense, I want you to know.