What I Must Do
by Melissa
Let me start at the beginning.
It's only fitting. This story cannot end just yet. Especially not until I explain myself. Even if it is only for my own benefit. There's just something about the need to hear the words.
He was always the loner, always alone. Perhaps that's what drew me to him in the first place. He represented a challenge. I for one do not shy away from something that proves difficult. After all, what is a life worth if you don't take risks and chances?
I found out that answer today. My life isn't worth anything, and all because I did take a chance.
Would it have been better if I hadn't said anything? To go on pretending, hoping and longing. Living in this personal hell of seeing the person I love every single day of my life and never being able to be with them.
I always thought I knew what love was. We all know what happens when you assume though.
Sometimes I think it would be better if I didn't know him, or that he didn't know that I even existed. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt as much. That fact that he does know me and that we are friends often twisted like a dagger in my side. And that is because there is always this tiny glimmer of hope that just refuses to die. Every time I think I'm over him he goes and does something, or says something, to make me fall all over again. The simple act of placing his arm around my waist as we walked side by side nearly made me burst into tears.
It was an simple act of love, but not of the type I have always longed for.
How many time have you wished that someone didn't care about you? I digress though.
Today started out like any other. I woke up and he was the first thing that I thought about. Just as he was the last thing I had thought about before I had fallen asleep last night.
Perhaps I was food deprived, or suffering from temporary insanity, or any number of other things this morning. It was then that I decided to tell him. Despite my attitude, it was not a decision that was made lightly.
I called and told him to meet me in the park. I have many fond memories of us just sitting there and talking the day away.
I remember sitting on the bench and I was shaking slightly out of nervousness.
He came by a short time later and sat down next to me.
"I have something to tell you," I said quietly.
He gave me a lopsided grin and leaned in close so that I might tell him.
I couldn't control myself any longer. He was so near to me that I need to feel his touch. I leaned forward and kissed him softly. A kiss of true love.
It lasted only for a brief moment before I pulled away. I watched for his reaction as I whispered, "I love you."
His eyes were as wide as dinner plates. He was obviously not expecting that to be why I wanted to see him. I was hoping against hope that he felt the same way I did.
He didn't though.
"I'm sorry," he had said, avoiding my eyes. "I don't.....I'll never feel the same way about you."
It was at that moment that my heart shattered like glass. The pain I felt was worse than anything else I had ever felt in my life previously.
I got up and stuttered an apology and then ran down the street. My tears blinding me as I went. I'm not even sure how I made it home.
Part of me died when those words left his mouth. All that's left now is to complete the job. My life was not as perfect as it seemed, and knowing that he could never love me like I love him was the final blow. I can't go on living as a broken soul or an empty shell.
I tried to leave a note, but the paper remains empty. It's only right, after all. I'm empty inside now. I lay the pen down because no words could possibly be explanation enough.
Someone once told me that you don't die from a broken heart, you only wish that you did. They were wrong. You can die from a broken heart.
I wish I could let him know that this is not his fault. I can't blame someone for how they feel or don't feel, no matter how much I may want to.
My father's handgun feels cold and smooth in the palm of my hand. He had bought it a few years back for protection. How ironic that protection will not be it's final purpose.
Even as I look at myself in the mirror, the eyes that stare back are judging me. It's funny how he was the only person in my life who never judged me. Do you have any idea how rare that is? To be taken for what you are at face value instead of being put under a microscope and examined for imperfections.
No more.
Never again.
I know what I must do.
The End
"Should I smile because he's my best friend, or should I cry because
that's all he'll ever be." - Dave Matthews Band
