It's been said absence makes the heart fonder. Actually, I think absence brings more clarity to most situations. It's been four months since we've last spoke or seen each other and I've finally realised I'm in love with the idea of being in love.
I've always believed I've loved you from the moment I met you. I was 12 at the time, you were 28. It was Mother's Day. It was ridiculously windy outside; we had just gotten back from East London. There was a vase full of flowers on the table. Gav was our waiter, Michelle the hostess. You were leaning across the counter hanging wine glasses. I remember you wore your watch on your right hand (I found it odd for some reason) and a gold bracelet on your left. You were my Adonis.
We joked about the dessert menu. My mom wanted Italian Kisses but only if it came with an Italian. You promised that the kitchen staff would serve you up on a plate and she could get her dessert.
I knew you belonged to someone else and there was nothing I could do about it. Yet, I loved you still; now I realise it was truly a silly, teenage crush.
It's funny how trauma plays with our emotions. I guess it's taken me eleven years to finally figure that one out. I guess my heart and my mind have finally reached the same conclusion: I'm okay with just being one of the boys.
When you and Michelle broke up, my heart broke for you from all the pain and bullshit she was putting you through. The hardest part about being around you was the fact that you're still in love with Michelle. Deny it all you want, you're still not over her. You still ask about her. Every woman you meet somehow reminds you of her; her hair, her eyes, or simply just the way she walks. You've been alone since she left, you won't let anyone in. Even if you weren't still hung up on Michelle, I'm not sure I'd be the one for you.
It's crazy how our lives had suddenly become entwined. We'd see each other often; barbeques, race nights, airport trips and lazy Sundays at the pub. I sat through crazy nights with you at Tarlton; drinking and listening to you yell Des' name every now and then.
I'll still be who keeps you out of trouble, or gets you into it (somebody get the bail money ready; there's a gay giraffe walking into a bra). The person who makes sure you fall asleep in your bed after a night out or on the couch when your mom gets pissed off at you. I'm the girl your parents like. I still cook you your favourite meals. I want to ease your pain. It hurts me to see you in pain; you try your best to hide it but I can see it. I guess I want to mother you in a way; it's just in my nature.
I wanted you to be the person you woke up next to every morning, the person you came home to at night. I wanted to be the woman you'd marry. I wanted to hold you in the middle of the night, chasing your demons away. I wanted to be the mother to your children; so what if we'd be grey when they graduate.
I wanted you to be my first. I wanted you to make love to me, to ravish me, to fuck me; I wanted you to take my body every way possible. I trust you. I could never be bothered by your scars; I have enough of my own. I've just realised there's more to a relationship than sexual chemistry.
I've stopped dreaming about you these days...
I always asked myself how do we get past just being friends? The answer is simple enough: we don't. You'll always be there for me as a friend and I never want to lose that.
Now, when I want to run away I run to the ocean; strange as it may seem.
I can't fix you, I've tried. Right now, I need to fix me. I've realised I've spent so much time trying to fix everyone else problems, I have completely avoided my own. Hopefully, this will be a new start for all of us.
Whatever happens in future, I'll always be there for you. Just stop fucking crashing into things, you're making me nervous.
P.S. I think Lynn might be your soul mate, just give her a chance.