I’m writing about you again. I spent the weekend with you. You had a party, a few friends over, we all got drunk, chain smoked, and danced. It was a nice time. One of the funnest night I’ve had in quite some time. Just, ignore the fact that funnest isn’t a word.
We were playful Saturday night. I mean, yeah, we always are. But we were especially affectionate that night. I liked it, I’ve missed that. I know that you have too. We slept in your bed together, as we always do. It wasn’t awkward at all this time, I was glad for that. You told me you loved me. I started crying, and continued to do so for an hour. We had a long talk. You told me it was okay. I was happy now, and that’s all you want. I cried harder. I wanted you to be happy too. I made you promise to try to find someone else.
I miss you, I really do. I love hanging out with you. You’ve always meant so much to me. You seriously are my best friend, of all time. You’re the only one that’s stayed by my side because you wanted to, not because I begged you to or made you feel bad or whatever else.
I love you so much for that. You are so important in my life. I never want you out of it. I know that you and my boyfriend are jealous of each other, and I know that it’ll be quite some time after the two of you meet when you’ll actually be able to be civil with each other because you want to be, not because you’re forced to do so. But you have accepted that he’s here to stay, and he will have to accept that as well. Honestly, you’re the one person I’d never want to run away from.