The one that doesn’t exist

We met in the worst way possible, you were my ex boyfriend’s/best friend's best friend. We couldn’t be together because of bro code or stuff.

I was dating a guy, brown hair, brown eyes, quite short but with a very big heart. He really loved me but I didn't (which I feel bad for).

I “met” you while I was with him, your brown hair was different, lighter, your brown eyes were different, deeper, you were taller. We met on a call and initially you were just my boyfriend’s friend, nothing interesting, nothing particular, but little did I know.
I didn’t break up with him badly so we became very good friends, which means I kept in touch with you, but still nothing very exciting. Late night talks, laughing in quarantine, playing games, just usual friends stuff .
Two years later, a normal sunny Thursday of may you we actually met. Your brother had a football thing near my town so I drove 30 minutes to you.

We hung out all day, talked under the shining sun, went shopping and we were planning on swimming in the river.
We went to said river, ate and sat there for a bit. You laid on my legs, or maybe I told you to? I can’t seem to remember. The air was warm, a bit windy maybe, the cold water running through my feet, the smell of grass and you mixed, it really just felt like a nice spring day. While we were there I said: “this feels like a 50’s cliche romance movie, the only thing that’s missing is the kiss.” You jokingly grabbed the back of my neck and said something along the lines of: “we can fix that” or “why don’t we do that then?” I laughed and looked down at you so you looked at me and pulled me towards you. I resisted the first time because it was a bad idea, I looked at you, you did it again and we kissed. After you said something that I can't really seem to recall, the only thing I remember is a moment later I was sitting on you, you had your hand somewhere questionable, while mine were in your hair I think, we were making out. We did that for quite a bit actually then we went to my house and kept on doing that.

When you left I was very happy, lips all swollen, pupils big and shiny, in my little cloud nine, dreaming, and waiting for a text from you. Not sure if it came until the next day.
3 am. You said you regretted everything, I was your best friend’s ex, you couldn’t stab him in the back, especially because he still loved me. Then you said something that I couldn't quite understand but somehow broke me inside. You said you didn’t actually feel anything for me and you were just horny and rode the wave.
I’m not sure how you could have done what you did without feeling even the tiniest thing for me. I was heartbroken.
The next day you invited me to dinner with your family and we made the same mistake in your hotel room, saying that you could ignore the guilt because what was done was done so might as well. I was so stupid, why did I fall for it the second time?

Not sure.

On day 3 you left without telling me and we never talked. You got in and out of a relationship, I moved on (or at least so I thought), you got a buzz cut, I got into a situationship and everyone got on with their life. I would occasionally think of you or talk about you , wondering if you were doing the same (probably not).

A bit later we met again. We talked like nothing ever happened, you were so nice, it felt like you never did what you did.
The way you looked at me, the way you smelled when I hugged you, our height difference, your touch, your voice, your everything. It brought me back to that day, to what happened, to what I felt. However what hurt the most wasn’t the fact that we probably won’t ever be together or the fact that i still feel something for you, it’s the fact that you keep acting that we’re just friends like i don’t know the way you taste, the fact that you act like you feel nothing, an act I’m starting to believe, maybe you really don't feel anything at all, and i was the one that was believing or hoping you did.

if you asked me: "Would I do everything once again" I'd probably say yes. Just to have you in my arms once again. Because I’m so hopelessly in love with you.

But sometimes I think I’m not in love with you, I’m in love with the idea of being in love with you, in love with a version of you that probably only exists in my head. Because god, we didn’t talk for a year and the only thing I had was my imagination, I forgot your voice, forgot your smell, forgot your height, forgot your touch. Only a blurry image of my first love that probably never existed.