Our connection seemed immediate on the outside, but I'm about to tell you something I never had before. It was our first semester of freshman year and we were in the same chemistry class. On the first Wednesday that we had the dreaded 3-hour lab class, I noticed you for the first time. Not because of the clothes you were wearing, or the way you had your hair done; I noticed you because of the way you carried yourself. You talked to the professor like you had known him for years and you laughed like all the people in the room were your best friends. Then there I was, sitting in the back next to another girl who I had noticed was just as quiet and untalkative as I was. I was so uncomfortable in that classroom, looking around at all these kids who were in the Honors Program, who were probably way smarter than I, and then there was you. You didn't seem like them; I assumed you were smart, but you also seemed street smart, rather than just book smart like the rest. I wanted to be you when we were in that classroom. I wanted to feel as comfortable being myself as you did.
Then as I entered the bathroom one day, I recognized you. Day after day I saw you in this shared space, and wanted to talk to you every time. However, I was missing one thing: I didn't know your name. It went on like this for a few weeks, maybe even a month or so. Finally, there was one day where we walked back to our dorm at the same time, as we talked and agreed about the difficult and nearly impossible content we were being taught. You gave me your number that day in case I needed help on homework, and boy, did I need help. Every. Single. Day. After a while, you started inviting me to your room so that you could explain the methods and solutions in person. Then we got dinner together a few times and within the timespan of about a week or so, we were inseparable. We were two peas in a pod, separated by an entire country (LA-NY), but yet we were able to find each other in a base-level chemistry course at a tiny school in Virginia.
When we went our (sort of) separate ways for Thanksgiving, you to Manhattan and NJ to visit your relatives on the east coast and me to my home town in NY, I think I talked about you every day. I missed you like crazy. Usually I get sick of people, but that didn't happen with you. I told my family how I made a friend who I thought was the one person I was destined to meet at some point in my life, you know, the one that you have forever. The one that would be my a bridesmaid in my wedding; the one that would be there for me during a bad break-up; the one that would tell me the honest and horrible truth, but the truth nonetheless; the one that would be with me through everything, no matter how much time passed us by. I was so proud to talk about you and all you had experienced, done and been through before we met. I wanted everyone to know how strong and how great of a person you were; how awesome of a best friend you were to me when I was sad about being apart from my best friends at home. You made my time at school what it was and you pulled me through some of the hardest moments I'd had so far. I aspired to be like you, to be as smart as you, to be as caring as you, to be as confident as you; but that a changed after you let those few words escape your lips: I feel like you're giving nothing to this relationship.
Like everyone else in the world, I've experienced some pretty rough relationships and have been torn and broken down by people in my past. I used to let people walk all over me until I was only a slim fraction of myself. But nothing has ever hurt me quite like those nine words had that night. They absolutely destroyed me.
I had given you everything I was capable of giving; I physically had nothing else and I thought you could see that. I was withering away faster than our friendship, and you even knew why. I explained everything as best as I could, but I've never been an open book. You knew more about me then most. It's difficult to explain yourself to someone you've only known for a few months. You claimed that I had changed, and maybe I had, but the original me was coming back; you just had to wait and you couldn't even do that. You said I didn't understand; of course I understood, I've been in your position before. My grandfather died of lung cancer when I was in middle school, and he lived three hours away. I didn't get to see him a lot, so I can relate to your situation, but you never gave me the chance. I know how it feels to not be able to be there for someone when you know you should.
I just want you to know that I still think about you. Sometimes it feels like this is the bad break-up I mentioned earlier, but you're not there for me to helplessly cling to. I see things and I think of you. It's hard not to since we had been so connected; I felt like you a part of me. I recently heard this quote:
"The fact that it is so good when it's good is also kind of the reason it's bad when it's bad." - SKAM
Take from it what you want.
