A letter from November 25th, 2024

Dear FutureMe,
play ma meilleur ennemie by stromae and pomme
 
don't read this if you don't want heartbreak. 
this is not a regular letter, it's a love letter, a confession. it's a string of words I had to put together and send off into the universe so that maybe I would accept that loving you is as it is and will never be more. I love you despite of me, despite all the trying, I play you like a song in my head on repeat, like a scene of nostalgia from a movie, a scene that you know is no longer but you watch it none the less. perhaps there's a version of you and me together in love. where you'd drive me crazy every day and not just once a week. one where I don't cry myself to sleep because I'm in love with my friend and friends is all we're gonna be and I agreed to it. I agreed to have you within reach but the small distance between us is so infinite I can never touch you. I remember the last time I kissed you, I didn't know it would be the last time back then and I'm dying to have an intentional last kiss again. just to savor it. to frame it in my mind because the real last time is so blurry now and so tarnished. I think I will love you forever despite my best efforts, I'll be your friend, I'll accept my hard fate because it's you. I hate you so much sometimes you drive me so crazy that I wonder if I can ever live with the sanity ever again. and God I hated the way you used to look at me I hated that I was just a warm body but now we're friends who talk about everything. and now your gaze softens sometimes and I think I find comfort in that. I can't have you to myself, I know you'll find someone one day, and I'll be just your friend maybe even less when you find someone, I'll be forgotten. but before you forget me I'll send you think letter. I need you to know how amazing you are, how smart, how handsome, how sweet (when you want to be) and how horribly you've tortured me just by being you. how much happiness I wish you and how much seeing you in love with someone else will break me. even if I were with someone else, knowing you were once mine to touch and hold and I took it for granted. then again I didn't know you and then I tasted your soul and your mind. I hate to think about the first time you kissed me, it felt like it was something you felt like you had to do. I hate the feeling of it. I hate that I hate you for it. I hate you so much that I love you. when I see this letter again in my inbox, I hope I wonder who it was about, then maybe I'd realize I'd have forgotten you a bit. maybe that can side my tired heart. you'd probably hate this, call it tautology or whatever, you'd call me a betrayer, hiding as your friend all this time, or maybe you know, you know all this time that I'm deeply, madly, insanely in love with you, I wonder if I hide it well. sometimes I wonder if you'd wake up one day and wonder that you love me as well but what's to love about me. there isn't much left of me anyways. all is broken and used and old and torn. but whatever part of it that still works, works for you, calls out your name. prays in the name of love that I'd move on from this. that I'd get over this but I never could. I feels sometimes that I'm just a placeholder for someone you long to meet and have all your conversations over dinners with, and that thought ***** through me like a knife. this feeling that sometimes you look right through me like I'm not even there. and I hope you find her, I do. but I want to scream I'm here, I exist too, I'm your friend who is there for you, who loves your conversations. who appreciates your company and I'm right here, right now. maybe someday you'll find what you're looking for but until you do... don't leave me wondering if it makes any difference to you were it some other random person sitting in my place, but I'm the only one you could find, so you settle for my company. cuz that hurts. I hope this doesn't hurt as much when I read it again next year. much love, all that I can manage Souad