Watching you do these things to someone else will feel like a weird replay of my own past, only with someone else cast as me and I’ll just be watching it, confused and displaced and feeling too big for my chair.
Yes, we’re friends. That’s not even a question. We’ve been through so much together it’s impossible to think about. We trusted each other more than anyone else, more than our own family members even. And you’re still the person I’d call first in the event of a death or a fire or a nervous breakdown, mine or someone else’s. Well you’re probably not, but I’d still want to call you first. I haven’t shaken that instinct yet.
True, our breakup wasn’t just any breakup. It was especially painful and horrible because we wholeheartedly believed we were IT for each other and the realization that we weren’t snapped us in half like a film cut, but it’s okay now. We had our run, it was good (for the most part) and now we’re going our own separate ways. You found someone else and I’m happy for you. But I’m still not ready to see you, because I know it’s going to be hard.