To The Boy Of My Dreams


I’ve already decided on what to do: I will ask my friend if it’s okay for you to contact her and get to know her more.

And then I will say goodbye to you.

Because I know you. And when you want something, you do what you can until you get it, or until you get tired, whichever comes first. And I’m like that too. But for the first time, I’m pushed to take a different direction. Because none of those two are in the cards for me — Because you already said I will never have you; and on the one hand, I will never get tired of wanting to have you.

Believe me, I’ve tried. So desperately, that I forced myself to hear your stories about this and that. Even more desperately when I allowed myself to third-wheel with you and the other. And that it had to come down to me succumbing to the attention of boys with girlfriends. And yes, I did notice how you made sure to not consider my feelings in anything; obviously with the hope of driving me (or my feelings for you) away.

Probably, the only good that came out of those experiences was me mastering the art of acting and withholding my feelings from you. So it really pains me, and maybe even insults me, that all this time that I respected your lines and took pains watching you display your affection towards those other girls while keeping mine to myself, apparently hold no bearing.

So this is it. This is what you chose to let go of. Someone who heard not-so-good things about you, but still gave you a chance; someone who took time to get to know you and allowed you to take your time to reveal yourself slowly to her; and respected and valued your silence along the way; someone who can promise to be ready to fight it out with you, to compromise, to adjust to your needs and wants; someone who knows you and can promise to be with you for as long as you let her.

This is as real as real gets. I’m not sure how much more real it can get. Because if what you say is true—if I’m really your best friend as of the moment, if I really know more than anyone else in your life as of the moment; then my choosing to stay should count for something. My still choosing you should assure you that I’m in it for the long haul.

But you said you’d rather choose a shot at “something real,” a shot at “love,” you say, over friendship. So obviously, our friendship doesn’t mean much to you. And I don’t matter to you, not even as a friend. You’re obviously sure you’ll meet someone else like me, find another friend like me; otherwise it wouldn’t be easy for you to let me go.

And there, my friend, lies our difference: our definition of “something real.” Maybe this means my definition of “something real” is screwed already. But what Samuel, the kid in the movie Babadook, did is probably the truest display of love (should it even exist), — I will stay with you. I promise to protect you for as long as you allow me to, and if you promise to protect me too. I am willing to get to know all of you, even your Babadooks, and fight them with you. And if you can’t seem to shake them off, then I will fight them for you, even if it means risking my own life.

I want you to know that it kills me to do this. But I know it’s for the best, even if it’s obvious that it’s mostly for your best still. But I guess that’s what true friendship means for me — putting the other person’s needs before your own. It’s a tricky balance between doing what you think is best for the person, and letting that friend decide for himself/herself what he/she thinks is best for him/her. And finally, when you’ve reached the end, respecting and accepting that decision, and deciding to still be there in the end even if it isn’t you they want.

I value our friendship, I value your trust, and I value you. I don’t know how else to put it. I love you this much. And if this isn’t love, if this isn’t true friendship, then I really don’t know what is anymore.

So it has come to this. Until you’re ready to value what we have me as much as I value it, and as much as it deserves to be valued; or until you’re ready to take it a step further, then I guess this is it for us. I really hoped our run would’ve lasted longer.

I will truly miss you. But until I rid myself of these feelings, no set-up will be ever be good for either of us. Maybe our friendship will find its way back in another chapter of our lives – who knows. But if it doesn’t, I don’t regret being even just a footnote in one of yours.

I love you this much.

But this is the last time I’ll allow you to be my dream crusher.