The Old You

         I think back to that day when I start to question things, which has been happening pretty often lately. That day that everything changed. Though as it was happening, I didn’t think anything would change. Do you remember that day?

         I thought we’d finally gotten to the point of being just friends. You had told me that you wanted me to be happy with Luke, and that you were okay with being just my friend, as long as I didn’t completely block you out of my life.

         And then one day at work, you actually talked to me. I hadn’t heard your voice in so long. You were telling me about how your family was going on vacation and you were going to be home alone, and you were going to be so lonely. You told me you wanted me to come over one of those days. So I did.

         It was a Tuesday. I was so excited, because I thought that it meant we were finally able to be just friends, and actually spend time with each other without things being weird. So, me being me, I was being silly and I told you that when I came over I was going to take a nap, and that I wanted to use you as a pillow. A guys chest is always the best pillow.

         I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t think you would see that as a second chance. Of course, looking back, it’s become pretty obvious that I had been leading you on that day.

         And when I came over, true to your word, you let me use your chest as a pillow. And as soon as you wrapped your arm around me and started running your fingers up and down my arm slowly, I knew something was going to happen. And then you grabbed my hand, and laced your fingers through mine. That’s when my mind started racing. Should I tell him to stop? Tell him that nothing had changed, that we were still just friends? But, what’s the harm in just holding hands? Maybe he won’t take it farther. But what if he does, and we go back to fighting? I hated fighting with you.

         And then it was like a movie, like I wasn’t actually the one sitting there, but I was off somewhere else, watching the scene unfold. You slowly raised your hand, and a single finger slid under my chin, coaxing it up, making me look at you. I was terrified. I knew what you were going to do. And I needed to stop it. But then, slowly, your lips came to mine. I was still thinking about how to stop you when you deepened that kiss. And like all stereotypical love stories, my mind shut off.

         This was you. The guy that had been fighting for me for over a month. The guy that looked at me like he couldn’t imagine life without me. So when you asked me to go “somewhere more comfortable,” I only hesitated for a second. Besides, it couldn’t go too far. I knew the limits.

         Later, while we were just lying there, I started thinking again. Now what? What did this mean? What about Luke? What about you? I had no idea what to do. And I knew it was my fault for making the situation complicated. No matter how this ended, someone was going to get hurt.

         I started laughing; laughing at how stupid I was, laughing at the mess I’d just caused for myself. When you asked me why I was laughing, I just said I was thinking about something, and didn’t elaborate. Did you know about the war in my mind? No, you couldn’t have. Because you just kept giving me that look - the one that told me I was the most important person to you.

         I think back to that day often. I think back to the guy I fell in love with. Even though I wouldn’t have admitted it that night, I had fallen completely and madly in love with you. And when you found out, you changed. You weren’t the guy that was fighting for me anymore. You stopped being the guy that said sweet things that made me smile like an idiot, even when that was the last thing I wanted from you. You haven’t even taken me out on a date since before all of this happened. Now, we barely even talk. I always thought I would end up with that guy that would text me just to say goodnight, or call me just because he misses the sound of my voice. But you don’t do either of those things. And while you’re gone, I start thinking. Did I make the right decision? But when you’re home, holding me in your arms, all of my worries seem to fade away.

         I miss the old you all the time. Sometimes I just wanna pick a fight with you so that I know you still care. So that I know you mean it when you tell me you love me. If something were to happen, would you fight for me like you did before, or would you just let me go? Would I let you fight for me this time? Sometimes, the answer seems so easy, it feels stupid to even ask. But other times, when I let my thoughts get the better of me, I have no idea what I would do now.