what i'll never get to say

i never exaggerated. i have trauma about telling my truth and being called a liar so we're gonna start here. every. single. thing. i told you happened, happened. some happened this year, last year, earlier. i told you that, too. but it all happened the way i said it did.

i never lied to you but i said many things i regret. i don't know if you never loved me, i never let you figure that out. you and he are not the same person, ten years removed. you and i are.

that's why you were able to reach me when no one else could. thank you for my Nico Robin moment. you made me realize i want to live and i don't know that there would ever be a way for me to repay you for that, but i do know that if i stay i'll never get the chance.

for all my strength, walking away is something that i just don't know if i can force myself to do, and i'll never be able to see or speak to you again if i don't because it won't be an option. you know that. i know that.

i don't know how you feel about it because of the block, but i'm sure you're unbothered by the loss. it's not really a loss on your part. i'm pretty easily replaceable for someone like you. good exes and good friends come easily to good men, i would imagine.

i'm taking yours a little harder. you're the best man i know, the only truly good man who has never abused me, lied to me (directly, anyway—misdirection is different), or intentionally hurt me in my life and you're the only friend i'm not allowed to have because we dated fifteen years ago. and, well, that sucks.

i'm a big girl, though, and i can own my choices. if i can't walk because he's doing the work and he'll fall apart if i do, i have to find a way to make peace with what that means for being friends with you. but i know your number by heart—that's what you do with your safety net's number (my new one is also committed to memory—the squirrel, if you want to check in and haven't deleted the whole chat like i think you have).

if i decide to walk, i know i can reach you, and he knows that too. he knows it's on the table, that the squirrel may whisk me away like an acorn for the winter or the year or forever if the problem doesn't stop. he knows why there were no other options left but official ones.

we had all the hard talks. well, not all of them. we've had a lot of them, and i found out we were right about those tendencies. he got the love map imprint from one of mom's boyfriend's, the one who taught him how to shoot. same m.o. as your friend. he got the traits directly from the source.

the people i told you about know all of this. it's the only place, other than here in the void, that i can talk about it still. thank you for making the call that you made. if you hadn't, i wouldn't have pushed myself to make things official and that's what came next.

now we do the hardest part. the work, while my trauma index is a 47 out of 80. the work, while my mouth is numb from clenching my jaw so tightly all the time. the work, when i quit a job i had for three weeks when you know how hard it was to get because my boss's boss got in my face and condescended to me and it triggered a flashback five minutes from the end of my shift.

how do you close out what could be a goodbye forever? thank you, i'm sorry, good luck? i wish things were different? i do, know that. but absent a miracle, i think this is farewell, my friend.