What Falling In Love With Your Best Friend’s Ex Feels Like


I watch her and I die a little.
She laughs and I die a little more.
She’s special.

She hugs me and I feel her mine between my arms.
She lets go of me and takes a little bit of me away with her.
She’s different.

She speaks and I watch her hypnotized.
My ears follow her voice like dawn follows night.
She’s magic.

She moves and I am breathless.
She looks at me and doesn’t see me.
She’s beautiful.

I see her arrive and my soul comes back to my body.
I see her hugging someone else and it goes away again.
She’s who she shouldn’t be.

My best friend loved a woman the best he could, and it was reciprocal. They truly loved each other, with a sincere love. Complex, but sincere. Complex isn’t for everyone, especially when it’s about a love between two complex people, and that’s why it’s over. And I was by his side while he was down, I helped him move on, be okay, drink a beer without being sad because he could be with her watching a movie. And through his stories, she was a good person. And through the shared moments she was nice, funny, we got along, but she was still a stranger in my life. Until I entered fully in hers.

Sometimes, knowing someone so well is a torture. Like when you know that woman for whom you’d give it all away is the one who used to give it all away for your best friend when she was his girlfriend. Like when you know she will never look at you, that you are always going to be invisible for her heart, that you’ll always be “his friend.” It doesn’t matter how much fun you have together, how much you have in common, how good you make each other feel, how many hugs you give each other, how many times you speak on the phone, how many beers you have drunk together, how many inside jokes have, how many times you dried her tears. Like when you know you wouldn’t want to dream about her, neither watch her laugh without laughing with her, neither let her go while you hug her. Like when you know that you can’t help wanting to caress her hair to sleep, or hold her hand. You can’t help wanting to tickle her in the neck, or kiss her. Or wanting her. Or loving her.

And one fine day, out of nowhere, I looked her in the eyes and told her the truth. I told her that I can’t lie to us anymore, not to her and not to myself. I told her I love her. She looked at me, smiled, and said she loves me too. Poor thing, she didn’t understand.

So I kissed her, so it could be better understood. And there she understood. And so did I.

Sometimes, knowing someone so well is a torture. Like when you know that woman for whom you’d give it all away is the one you’re kissing while thinking in your best friend.

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