Dearest Best Friend,

Look at me, admitting that I messed up big time. While we were off being mad at one another for our feelings, I betrayed you. I suppose I only betrayed you as badly as you betrayed me, maybe even less because your deed had already been done. But that is besides the point. You see, I did exactly what you told me would hurt you the most… I’m sure you already know where I’m going with this. And I’ll get there and say it eventually, but let me get there on my own time. For some reason, this note isn’t quite as easy for me to write as I had thought. I don’t know why. I’m stuck between not feeling as sorry as my head is telling me I should feel and knowing that if I say this, I may really hurt you.

So I hooked up with Something. It was late and at that party that happened the night you left for school. Remember, that day you didn’t even so much as attempt a goodbye? I guess there’s a lot of anger left in me because of you; because of her. Because that ex-girlfriend of yours put me through hell for 17 months. Me. This girl you “love”. Even if that love happened much too fast, you still said it, not me. And then to finally free yourself of her only to go back to her behind my back… It was behind my back, because regardless of the fact that you were going to tell me, you didn’t just say it. It didn’t need to be a delicate situation, you could have just told me you screwed up. You wouldn’t have been the first. But instead you dug yourself a deeper hole because you spent the night, the very next night, with me. You did. I didn’t ask it of you, you just did it.

So the fact that I did all that I did with Something seems insignificant. I didn’t break any sort of unspoken best friend bond, or your heart. I went back to someone who cared for me and as badly as I want to regret it like you regret her, I just don’t. He held me and bit my neck, his lips touched mine and his fingers tangled into my hair.  He held my hand and I held back. Remember telling me if I was with him, you would have been pissed, furious even? That it was different than what you did with her. Why is that? How is it different? I loved him just as much for far longer than your relationship had lasted and just because we never dated doesn’t mean my love was any less significant.

Maybe that’s my point.. my love is not insignificant. Just because you weren’t ready to title anything, it doesn’t make me obsolete. I feel just as much as anybody else. That’s what the point of this is! You hurt me because I can feel. I can feel, maybe even more than the rest of the world. I’ve experienced more loss than I’ve been willing to share with anyone, so I know how to feel. I know that it’s better to feel too much too soon than everything way too late.

Loved too soon,

The Cartographer of the Tangles in Your Hair.


Best Friend,

I’m sorry to say it’s taken me this long not to spite you. I’ve figured it out, finally, honestly. I don’t love you, I don’t actually think I was ever even attracted to you. You see, I fell in love with the idea that you were a boy like you who loved a girl like me and would never hurt me. We could have this adorable fairy tale story and end happily ever after. Forgive me that the child in me ran away with my right mind. Once you proved that you could hurt me. No, that you would hurt me, the idea of  that love just shattered. So I suppose the anger was mostly about the fact that my happily ever after would never happen; at least with you anyways. Now, I’m okay with that. Now, I can accept that and laugh about the idea of us. Can you? I’m not so sure. You seem to get jealous and pout when I talk about boys but you talk about girls all the time. I suppose that’s fair…? I do hope you don’t hold on to the idea of us.

All my love,

The Cartographer of Her Own Cotton-Candy Hair