subject line: to T


Tubsy, Washington

I wrote about being in love with my best friend a while ago. And how he found a girl. But I still love him.

You say to, “Tell him,” but what do I tell him?
How do I say ten years worth of things to say? How do I hurt the person I love the most by asking him to give up what has made him so happy? Because he’s still with that girl. He’s still holding her hand and posting pictures of the two of them together and I’m going to see him in three days and he’ll tell me more about her. Her laugh. Her hair. Her kindness. Her eyes.
He never shuts up about her.

I don’t really understand.
I’m the one he called when he was seventeen and in trouble. I’m the one he wrapped the quilt around when we walked in the moonlight. I’m the one he made coffee all those mornings for. I’m the one he gave his bed up for when I was stranded at his house. I’m the one he took out into the woods at ninety miles an hour but it only felt like twenty because he makes the world slow down. I’m the one he wrote almost everyday for four years. I’m the one he gave the crystal necklace to out there behind the oak trees. I’m the one he calls his best friend.

But I’m the one he’ll give up if I ask him to choose between us.

I don’t understand it but I know it. I know it. So how do I tell him? Why the hell should I tell him? Do you know something I don’t T? Because I swear, I want nothing more than to lean across the kitchen island this weekend and confess my love to that man. But I know him. I’ve known him since fifteen years old, and I know that if I do that, it’ll be the end of this friendship.

This way I get to keep him. I almost think that’s better. At least I get a little part of him. At least I earned that much of him.
Is that really so bad?