I lost my best friend

and I wish I could say goodbye another million times

If I’d known that night in the forest would be the last time I’d hold you, I’d never have left.

Have you ever been loved by someone so much that it hurts you both? I write about my desire to be yearned for - to be missed and prioritised, for them to be driven mad with jealousy at the simple thought of me with someone else. But in truth, I had that, and it was the most painful experience of my life.

“I love you because you didn't fall in love with me.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

In April, I lost my best friend of six years to unrequited love. When I imagine what true love is, I think of the love he gave me - undying, all-consuming. What I failed to notice was the torture that came with it. Every New Year’s kiss, first date, hookup, and relationship I had wasn’t just a choice I made, it was a choice I didn’t make - to be with him.

It wasn’t until October 2024 that the cracks started to show. He couldn’t take it anymore. The waiting. The longing. The concept of one day slipped through his fingers every second, and my respectful friend (who had always been happy as long as I was) became consumed with jealousy. Hurtful comments and emotional outbursts became weekends of binge drinking and unimaginable turmoil.

The security of being loved by someone so ardently was reassuring for me, but the second I opened my eyes to the pain behind his, I opened my heart to sharing it. I didn’t want to date because of the fear of hurting him. I lied about where I was going or who I was talking to. I even saw my other friends less to see him more, hoping he’d be reassured that I still loved him (even if it wasn’t in the same way).

But how do you call it friendship when the closest person to you, your everything, spends their life intoxicated while you rapidly lose your own sense of freedom?

It had to end.