looking through his glasses.

part 11/ what the fuck was that night

i've spent the night with other guys before.
stayed in their bed.
shared secrets.
but nothing ever compared to you.
and it wasnt the alcohol.
it wasn't the things we did.
it was you.
all you.
i'm not sure why.
but it was you.
and maybe that's what's breaking my heart.
i've never wanted you as a friend.
i still don't.
it wasn't a fling for me.
it wasn't a fling for you.
fuck.
was it love?
was it just a mistake?
but what if it was love?
what if getting under my clothes meant more than just seeing my body naked.
what if sharing the same bed was more than just being close.
what if exchanging saliva was more than just mindless drunk kissing.
i don't think friends want to bring their friends over to their sisters house to meet their family.
i don't think friends tell each other they'd wait endlessly to be with them.
i don't think alcohol makes a person just randomly say that.
i don't think alcohol just makes a person suddenly have feelings that have been there for three years.
get a fucking grip.
just admit it.
i'm tired of these games.
you don't open up to a person about the deepest shit in your life for three continuous years but then go out drinking with them for ONE night and now it's "the alcohol made me say things"
no.
we're too old for this.
love me or don't.
but don't leave me in this fucking god awful middle piece of space and time where you're unsure about what you want in life.
don't do that to me.
i've never brought up your past and shoved it in your face.
i've never raised a hand to you.
i've never even raised my voice at you.
don't you dare do this to me.