I Love You: An Open Letter To My Best Friend (part one)

Written By Emery W. 

“The One I Don’t Deserve”

Dear Best Friend,

We’ve known each other for a decade which is longer than I can say for anyone else I consider my best friend. We went through most of high school together, and for the four years I was away at college, we still remained close. Out of everyone I “left behind” in our home town, you were the only one who made an effort to keep me part of the loop. Sure, we each had our own friends we bonded with while the other was away, but we still remained untouchable. Until now.

When I moved back home, a failure, with my head hung low, you took me in, and made a place for me in this new life I didn’t know you’d created. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t comprehend. I was selfish for those years away. And now still, I feel like I don’t know how to fit into who you are. We know each other better than we know ourselves, and can predict each other’s actions and the outcome before the other makes a decision. Basically, we’re sisters.

In high school I was the older friend; the one who had all of the answers, made the grades, and graduated first. Four years later and things had made a full 180. You were the working woman, committed in your relationship, in bed on time every night, and trying to hold together this misfit group of people we tried to call a family. Yet there I was; no degree, no job, no car, and no direction. When did things change? How were we able to miss each other’s crazy party phase, virginity loss, and first tattoo? You made those memories with someone else, and so did I.

Through it all you remained the same ambitious, selfless, and caring person I’ve always known. But what happened to me? Sensible, smart, responsible Emery? I’d lost myself for almost four years, and thought I could gain it all back when I became the girl who moved back to her old time. No, that’s a lie. I never thought I’d get it all back. I didn’t want to. I wanted to be the one who had done it all, and tell the life stories. In reality that was you. It was always you who taught me about life even when you weren’t trying to. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.

I must confess that I spent a lot more time hating you than being happy for you. I wanted these experiences with you, but by the time we were together to have them, the opportunity was gone. I wanted to go out? You had to go to bed to wake up for work in the morning. You had the perfect relationship, another best friend to share inside jokes with, and people who knew you when you walked through the door. You were the reason we had a house to live in, and the car to get us where we needed to be. You had everything I wanted, and I had the friend to mooch off of, and that killed me. No, it KILLS me.

That whole time I used the excuse of being unemployed for my constant state of depression when in fact, it was me who hated myself for being jealous of you, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop because I needed someone else to place the blame on.

But then the worst thing in the world happened. People started hurting you and leaving you and lying to you. Hell, I was one of them. But still, you continued to be you, and showed them how strong you really are. You kept working, continued to pay the bills, and take care of everyone else. You may have been crying behind closed doors, but you never let it show. Not to anyone who didn’t matter, and one day I didn’t matter. That’s the day you taught me the greatest life lesson you never knew you gave me; never lose someone’s trust.

I may have gained it back, but I don’t trust myself to hold onto it. It’s that self-deprecating feeling you always tell me to let go of, but I can never seem to. There will always be someone else, but never anyone as close to me as you. You’re my homo soulmate, and the fear of someone coming between that is the most frightening thing in the world to me. I don’t want you to find another Oklahoma companion, or another person to have Grapevine adventures with. I don’t want you to have another best friend, especially one who’s already mine.

This comes off as so hypocritical and selfish, but someone spending our time together hurts, but once again, I’m not being fair to you. I’m trying, Best Friend. Really trying to keep you, but you need more than the sensible, stay-at-home type. I do too, which is why she is that person for both of us, but I’m begging you in the most organic sense of the word to not let her replace me because I swear she has not replaced you.

I write this as an open letter hoping you’ll read it, and knowing if you do you’ll cry. I know you’ll read the words ‘best friend’ in the title, and read it knowing it has to be you. Really, who else is worthy of such precious words? You’ll read this, and you’ll cry just as I’m crying writing it because you’ve known these words to be true though I never spoke them. You’ll comment or text me, and tell me you love me because you speak those words every time we see each other, and I know them to be true. I know all of this because I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s something no one else will ever be able to do. At least, until the man God created to deal with your crazy ass finally reveals himself. Even then, I’ll be jealous, and tell him I know you better.

I love you.