Unreachable

He was always my unreachable. The thought ran over and over inside my mind. I knew it was true, but I never knew how close I had come until now.

When he was forever unreachable.

And he had been so close to reachable, but I messed up. Me and my fucking blindness. Even my friends had tried to show me, but I had never trusted them. The last time I had trusted them with my love life, they had been wrong. So how was I supposed to know?

But I suppose I’m getting ahead myself.

My unreachable was named Tristan. He was the sweetest, cutest, funniest guy I’ve ever met. He was the kind of boy who wasn’t popular for his looks, but for his personality. Everyone loved him for it, even if they didn’t like him the same way I did.

And he was my best friend. My fucking best friend.

How cliché can it get? Yearning for the very boy who was my best friend. He knew everything about me, except how I really felt about him. And I guess I was the very same way towards him. Even though I wasn’t nearly as popular as he was, we spent all our time together.

Perhaps that was why I had fallen for him. Or maybe it was his natural charm.

Either way, I loved him. But he had a girlfriend. Sure, I pretended it didn’t bug me; that I was happy for him like a best friend should be. But I couldn’t ever bring myself to befriend her. Maybe if I had, she would’ve let something slip. I knew Tristan was an excellent secret keeper when he put his mind to it.

He should have fucking told me. He should have told me, and not waited until they had it all planned out.

I got the messy letter tucked inside the cream-colored envelope meant for the wedding invitation instead of Tristan's scribbling.

“Dear Kayla,

I know it’s hard to believe I’m getting married; I just turned eighteen! It’s hard for me to believe, too. A lot of pressure was put on me to do this, you know. My parents think she's perfect for me. Her parents want me to hurry up. She wants me to, too. But I have to tell you a secret before it’s too late.

I’d rather have proposed to you.

Yes, I know we’ve never kissed, or even dated. But I still love you. I love you more than anyone, even my wife-to-be. Please don’t tell her, okay? I’m trusting you to keep this one last secret for me. I know you’ll move on. You’ll have other friends, and you’ll eventually meet someone who means as much to you as you do to me.

But I’ll never get over you. I can promise you that.

I don’t know when I’ll next see you. My fiancée is suspecting something already. I’m sorry, my love. And I’m sorry, but she insisted I not invite you. I think it’s for the best, too.

Your best friend,
Tristan

I literally burst into tears when I read that. He loved me back. He was finally within my grasp.

But no. He was still my unreachable. Forever, and I’ll be damned if that changes anytime soon.

I didn't even know where he was now.

I love you, too, my unreachable. . .