To be perfectly honest, I never thought it would happen.
We’ve been friends, literally, since I can remember. Our families had been friends for decades. He was my best friend. The person I had always messed around with and the boy I accidentally gave a black eye in the 2nd grade. I never thought of him romantically. Ever. Until I got into middle school which was when we started dating. I know, “Middle school relationships mean nothing. You’re young.” And to be honest I thought that too.
But as time passed everything I felt for him just magnified. I hate using something so cliche but I never felt that way about anyone before. He was just always… there, you know?
Then I hit a really rough patch. REALLY rough. Everything bad that happened felt like it was my fault. And he helped me through all that. He comforted me, held me while I cried, willingly became my punching bag when I was frustrated. And he never complained. Not once.
Even when I moved away and he stayed, we still stayed together. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. And on my birthday, he drove an hour and a half to wait at my front door, before I got home from school, wearing a bowtie and holding flowers.
Then all of a sudden, he tells me he has to go out of the country for something important. And when I dropped him off at the airport, he began to cry and he told me that he had cancer. And that he was going to Korea because his whole family lives there. I had no idea what to say. But we kept up through care packages, video chats and phone calls. I hated not being there for him when he needed me when he had always been there for me.
The last time we talked was Wednesday two weeks ago. He told me he loved me. It was the first time. He told me that I was the one person he cared about throughout his whole life. Even when I wasn’t interested in him. And that everything he did was for me and how much he wished I was there with him. I couldn’t speak. But after a long silence all he said was, “I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say all that.” All I wanted to say was “I love you. I miss you. You don’t understand how much I want to be with you right now. Please get better.” But I just started to cry. I managed to squeak out: “I love you so much. Just come home soon. Please. I miss you.”
He died two days after that conversation. Friday. The funeral’s in Korea. I can’t even go to the funeral. I can’t GO. TO. HIS. FUNERAL. I can’t. I can’t.
Yesterday, I got a package in the mail from him. A small box and inside was a note that said: “Never forget the ones you love” and a necklace. It was postmarked for the day he had told me he loved me.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.
RIP, MC. You were are my best friend and I’ll love you forever.
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