I didn't make this about a specific member, and I probably shouldn't even be posting it here. But I feel like I owe you guys some sort of an explanation. And this is it. Please handle with care because this is my heart for the last five months, and it's out in the open. Thank you. 

First we were strangers.

            It started innocuously enough. One text, one dinner and a movie. No anticipation, no expectations. Just a getting to know you, and that was okay because I wasn’t looking for anything. But what began as just a teasing conversation turned into two am on your rooftop, looking over the skyline and thinking, wow. How did I get here? Maybe it was the glass of scotch next to me. Maybe it was the slightly nippy summer air. Maybe it was the fact that I was wrapped in your blanket and the city was so, so pretty at night and I just wanted to live for once.

            Either way I was there, and soon I was more than there. I was here too. The insides joke started then and I wondered if you’d remember any of them the next day and everything was still so new, so fresh, so shy. Tiny rosebud that could be nipped shut if things had gone differently.

            The messages came in a flurry, and so did the questions. Twenty questions, one comment, leading to another. New information tucked into the deep pocket of my brain that now has your name labeled on it.

            That night, the first phone call came. Already I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. Already I knew that even if you meant nothing, I meant everything and that if this went on further, I just might burst. The minutes went by without my noticing it. And then you let out a tiny yawn.

            “Go to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

            “So do you.” And there was a silence.

            “You hang up first.”

            What a relief. Hearing the beep of the phone hanging up on the other end only made my heart twist into knots, and so after a little bit of stalling, I mustered the courage to click off. 2 am. Next night, another hour, and another, and then three hours. And every night, it was a slow fall onto my bed, to stare at the screen until it lit up with your name.

            “Hey, promise me something.”

            “What?”

            “That there wouldn’t be anything weird between us. That we can only just be friends.”

            You’ve made your intentions clear from the start. But I, naïve that I was, had hopes. Maybe things could be different. It was 3 am. We’ve been back and forth for nearly three hours. Maybe it was time to take the plunge.

            “I’m not sure I can keep that promise.”

            Silent on the other end and that was when the truth came out. “I’m broken. You don’t want to be with me. You don’t deserve someone broken like me.” And fool that I was, I didn’t believe you. You were held on a pedestal. You were right. I didn’t deserve you, but what I didn’t deserve was someone as amazing as you.

            “Let’s take a break.”

            Just like that. My entire summer fell apart and there were still two months to go. All the plans that we’ve made, and there were plenty, felt into a hole and I couldn’t imagine life without you. It’s been three weeks with you and already the next eight without seemed impossible.

            Three days later you called me. I started off on the defensive, started off smart, but not smart enough. “I thought we were on break.”

            “I found a way for us to just be friends.” And just like that, things fell back into their usual pattern. I saw you way too much and we talked for way too long on the phone still. And I still continued to like you.

            Drunken calls. “Why are you so good to me?” “I wish you were here.” All things you no longer say to me. “You know, watching the fireworks today, I wish you could have been with me.” All words that sparked butterflies in my heart.

Then we were lovers.

            The first kiss didn’t happen when it should have. “You missed my signal.”

            Awkward laugh. “Try again harder.”

            “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. We’re friends.”

            “Yeah, and that’s why we are having this conversation.”

            There weren’t fireworks, only squeezes around my heart, and uncontrollable giggles because you made me that happy. Your pillow beneath my head was the one thing keeping me up because otherwise I would have fallen into a state of bliss, fallen down the hole that I created for myself, but at the time I only saw it as rising up to the sky.

            “You have thin lips.” Something I’ve never heard before but I accepted it because you said it, and how did I know myself better than you knew me?

            We’re walking around my childhood and you held my hand. Something we never do. “Will you go on a date with me?”

            I thought then that all the bumps in the road we’ve hit was worth it because look, the rollercoaster was going back up again, and this time it was going to stay there.

            It was after the date, after the dinner and you looked at me. “I’m not comfortable.”

            “What do you mean?”

            You gestured between the two of us and I felt my heart lurch. Of course. The moment when you feel like nothing could go wrong, everything always does. “I’m still so in love with her.”

            There it was. Everything for the past month you’ve been trying to suppress came out and I could only sit there. “I feel so dead without her and I want to get back with her.” Each word was a pain, stabbing me in the chest but I endured. I endured because I knew how much she meant to you, and I knew that there was nothing I could do to change reality.

            “I see the way she affects you. She makes you so sad.” My one attempt.

            “Would you rather I be with her, deliriously happy but also really sad, or dead without her?” And when you said that, you looked right at me, and you knew. You knew me. You knew that regardless I would never ever let you be unhappy. And so I had to let go. I had to let go something I never really had.

            Two days later, you smiled at me. “I spoke to her and she actually told me she loved me. We’re going to try again. She’ll be here in August.”

            We were supposed to see each other less, but we didn’t. We said we would. We said we shouldn’t hang out as much. We set boundaries. No more being so close. But that didn’t happen. And each day, you looked at me and sighed.

            “I really regret asking her to get back together.” You looked at me from over the couch. “Why didn’t you try harder to stop me?”

            It was your birthday, and we only had a week left before August. “I’m so happy I get to spend my birthday with the person I most want to spend it with.” Every word was carved into the now smoothed and raw surface of my heart.

            I make light of it. “She’ll be here soon. Then you’ll really have things to look forward to.”

            Silence. “You always do that. Why do you take my sincerity and turn it into something else?” But you didn’t stop to think that maybe this was my defense mechanism. This was my way of keeping you from hurting me. Because I’ve already shed too many tears, already obtained too many scars. But in front of you, I’ve only let you know twice, and that was twice too many.

            On your birthday, I was vulnerable, and so were you. When you leaned over to kiss me, all I asked was, “I thought we shouldn’t do this?”

            “It’s my birthday,” you murmur, as if that was the best excuse in the world. And it was, at that moment.

            This time, when we fell onto the bed, there was something different. There was a raw energy, something that was tinged with bittersweet. When you reached for my shirt, I didn’t stop you, and all the while, I thought maybe this is how it’s going to be. There was fifteen minutes where I could have stopped you but when you came back, I had made up my mind. Forget everything. It was okay. I could be yours. Never mind that it was almost August. Never mind that she was almost here. I liked you, and that was enough.

            For days after, the pain only reminded me that we had reached a new point too late. That where we were may come back to haunt me. But each time you reached for me, I let you because I just wanted you to be happy. And being with you makes me happy enough so why did it matter everything else that was happening?

            August was a dark hole. I tried to fill it and occasionally, you’d tell me, “Wish you were here.” “I miss you.” Again, things you now no longer say to me. And when that month was over, you asked to talk to me.

            “I think you’ll be happy.”

            But my heart never let me think that it was over between you two. There was no way.

            “We broke up.”

            So now what were we? “I’m not looking for anything serious.”

            That was okay, because it was you. And who cared what I wanted? I didn’t need to do serious, I just needed to have you. And I thought we were okay.

And now we are ghosts.

            Each day it was a cautious step. Would this tip him over? Would he think that we’re being too serious? I saw you every day, something you initiated and I went along with. And it was alright. There were moments where you would tense, and you would look at me. “Would you be okay if we were just friends?”

            A possibility that I had to face, but one that would hurt me nonetheless. So I just smiled. “Of course. Our friendship is most important.” And it was. But if I could have you in another way, I would hold onto that.

            Then this happened. It was my fault, and a million what ifs run through my head. “What if I had warned her not to say anything?” “What if I denied everything?” “What if he never found out?” But what ifs were for a different universe, a different reality that wasn’t mine.

            “Let’s just be friends.”

            You say that with a tone of finality and my heart let out a sigh of relief. And that was when I realized, all I ever needed was to have you in my life. That was all that mattered. It didn’t matter if we were friends, something more, or anything. We just had to be something, and if this was it, so be it.

            “I’m still so in love with her. I think it’s better if we were friends.”

            A decision you made. But now you need to stick to it. And sometimes it seems you do, but sometimes I don’t know. I am still here for you and you take that to your advantage. When you’re stressed, you turn to me.

            “Is a hug friendly?” “Can spooning be friendly?” Pushing boundaries, but always the emphasis that we’re friends. And the worst. “Hey, want to sleep together?” A beat of a pause and then you shake your head. “No, we shouldn’t make that mistake.” A mantra you repeat over and over as if to convince yourself. And maybe you are.

            I miss holding you. I miss touching you. I miss kissing you but most of all, I miss you. I miss the way you would call me, the way you would talk to me. I miss our long hours of talking; I miss you. I don’t hear you say you wish I were there, that you miss me, and maybe things have changed for you. But I still miss you so, so much, and now I don’t know.

            Every day now is a struggle to get over you, and I have mastered the art of putting the pain at bay. But there will be times when it hits, and I just miss you so so much and then there’s nothing I can do.

            I told myself no more tears. But they still fall one by one. I tell myself you didn’t deserve me but then I’d think of you and all that goes away. I don’t know what we are, who we are, what I mean to you. I only know that maybe our course has run out, but damn, it was a fun one.

Maybe someday, we can be friends. Really, truly friends.

Thank you.