Love Letters to Him

Metamorphose

I felt like a chameleon.
My feelings changing subjected to yours.
I even started hating the things I once loved because you didn't like them.
Do you know how twisted that is?
But for the life of me, I didn't know how to like your new girlfriend.
It wasn't the jealousy unrequited love brings, it was just gross, outright, dislike.
If I could ever go back in time, I promise you, I would prevent you from taking the decisions that lead to her.
They broke you,
They broke her,
They broke me,
And they broke us.
By the time you even started dating her, I was in love with you.
In extreme denial over it, but I was, regardless.
Do you remember how happy you were when you finally got the one girl you wanted for the past two years?
Ecstatic, is more like it, I guess.
I should've been too, right?
My best friend was happy.
But I think I did a good job at concealing my innermost feelings most of the time.
Except when I would come home too early and fall into bed, thinking if I ever did need you now, I was on the second rung of the ladder.
Would I have still disliked her if she had treated you right?
I don't know.
Guess, we'll never know.
In my mind, she is still this dark force, that pushed us apart and made you doubt yourself so hard you felt compelled to change.
We always knew smoking isn't healthy, and that drinking kills too. We also knew we were still kids stamped with the adult tag, who were still coming to terms with it on our own.
But we were adults, educated and capable of making those decisions for ourselves.
Not lab rats for someone with a higher than thou attitude to come think they can change us for the better.
I know how petty and utterly ignorant that sounds.
But I was 18.
I liked a boy I could never have.
And he was killing himself to be the ideal human his new girlfriend wanted.
The thought still makes me vomit.
Of how you would struggle, inevitably giving up.
I remember being secretly giddy over it.
You were overthrowing her.
No, I didn't get my best friend back so soon.
I got a piece of him.
A piece only I was allowed to see and have.
I was his solace.
He didn't have to pretend around me.
And in turn, I didn't have to pretend to like her anymore.