Letter To The One Who Gave Me The Sincerest Company

I wrote this August last year, a month after I decided to quit you and the things we enjoyed doing together. This is almost never written.

My Dearest G.,

You and I once acted together in the most beautiful love story ever written. Only we didn’t know who’s the beloved, who’s the lover.

We would have been smart to take that as a sign. Walking on one side of the highway, I left my crowd and crossed over to join in your lone drinking game. I knew the benefits of your friendship.

I accompanied you to the places you knew where we sat alone together to the passing of time, drinking and smoking through dusk until dawn. We were good at ignoring the commotion of all those inside. When the early hours came, we left, slugging from a bottle of beer until we stole urgently fueled kisses in the car we took a free ride. The alcohol allowed us weeks full of meaningful glances to materialize into something malicious and gossipy that I said I regret. For now, after all those times, you surrendered to it.

You always brought your lighter to light my cigarette. Always, the flame reflected in your clear eyes betrayed your intentions. As our grip on each other grew tighter, we fell deeper and deeper. I supposed if we stumbled through a field, we would have collapsed in a loving embrace.

But our story was not as quite remarkable as Shakespeare had written it. You knew you were being used, as did I, but we made a passing agreement to ignore it. Afterwards, we lay for a while, smoking, staring up into the starry night sky. Just a classic picture of romance. As it started to rain, we headed home. We no longer kissed. We forgot the desire of us to feel the love as it was in our illusions.

We emerged back into our crowd and started to be what we were once to each other, exchanging welcoming glances as if every day was our first meeting. Our friends would have forgotten our escape. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell as many people as you thought.

As our goodbyes never happen, promises of future contact will still string us together. But more than anything else, let me tell you, and I’m gonna say this for once:

I’ve always preferred your company (even if our activity is killing me, literally.)

Apologetically,
L.