Seven years. One year.

I’m going crazy without him. I know he has a girlfriend… but still. He’s my best friend and I’m his. At least I still think so. I used to be so sure that it would always stay that way forever but now I’m starting to think that his forever doesn’t last as long as mine. I feel like I’m losing him. Like he’s breaking up with me when we weren’t even together. The sad part? We could’ve been – together. We just never had the right timing. It’s how our relationship works: I get serious with him, he’s serious with someone else… He falls for me, I’ve fallen for someone else.

Our feelings do agree on one thing though: we’re each other's “the one that got away”. I don’t know how he feels about me now but I still do love him. I guess that’s why the one that got away hurts just about as much as the FIRST. Nothing ever happened with the one that got away even when the whole universe was yelling at you, to the point of extinction, to say that so much could have. The feelings were there, the chemistry, the fireworks… the spark. But you’re stuck where you are, running on autopilot, driving on a never-ending loop of wondering what if.

We had a promise that rang so loudly in our ears and pounded so abusively in our hearts and, yet, it was never spoken out to the open air. It was a promise that didn’t need to be said but felt. It was the promise to always be there for each other no matter what. That promise existed until now. He no longer runs to me when I call out to him. My lungs have collapsed. My tears dried and my heart broken. As did the promise. When I need him the most, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Seven years to know each other.
One year to become the strangers we once were.