I know these two guys- brothers- and they were my real close, good friends. Were, as you noted. No, we’re not close anymore, let alone good. We used to play together, eat together, hang out together. I used to love watching them bicker in the brotherly fashion they used, all those sassy, sarcastic and drop dead hilarious comments they threw at one another. I knew nothing, absolutely nothing, would come in between or break this bond. And the worst part was I had developed feelings for both of them. And so did they. But I loved the little brother in the sense that I felt like he was my own little brother. I loved the older brother romantically. He was my world, everything and anything I’ve wanted. He could have asked me to do groceries for him and I would have done it in a heartbeat. I was head over Hell for him. It was horrible, immature, and very, very raw. These feelings for him were unfiltered, unaltered, unmasked. People say you feel butterflies in your stomach- I felt pterodactyls. I wouldn’t even know what to say or how to act around him. When his little brother told me he had feelings for me, I faltered. I did, too, but no where near to the feelings I had for his older brother. And so, I let him go. Our friendship died overtime. He grew distant and cold. I didn’t really know who he was anymore, and that chapter in our lives ended too soon.
The older brother had pulled me within his orbit long before I realized it. There was a year where all I could think about was him- he was my first and last thought in my mind every day. Needless to say, that year in school fucking sucked. I had put in only an eighth of my studying efforts into that year. And yes, it was brutal. When I look back at it now, I want to slap myself in the face for being so stupid and blind. I knew exactly what he was going to do to me, and I knew exactly what I should have done but I did not. I let him ruin me, I let him tear me apart top to bottom. He was my most recent ex, the only man I’ve loved so hard, so long, and so purely; and I will never love anyone that purely again. None of it was worth it. I am sick of being played, wronged, and left for selfish reasons. I went from two friends to one, to none.
I had a dream last night. The three of us were lying on a bed, watching a movie. I had laid myself over the two of them- my legs over my ex, and my head propped on my hand and elbow on his brother’s lap. We were friends again. I felt so serene. I felt happy, something that hasn’t happened to me for a time now. But I woke up this morning and I returned to reality. They’re not a part of my life anymore. I don’t want them to be. I don’t want to be reminded of how I failed in keeping the two people I cherished the most. We’re not friends anymore. We are all just memories of each other.