We're are friends again.
Or at least I think we are.
We sit and we talk and she no longer hides behind a mask.
It makes me happy to see her smile again.
Even if it doesn't quite reach her eyes like it once did.
I've moved on.
I realized I was foolish to even think that I could love my best friend much less another girl.
She's happy for me.
Or at least that's what she told me.
If she believed otherwise-if she disapproved she would tell me.
Because that's what best friends do.
But then things got messy.
And she screamed.
And cried.
And did things I have never witnessed before.
We aren't friends.
She told me, past her volcanic tears.
We were never friends.
Friends would have never felt the way I did towards you.
I told you didn't I?
You made me believe you loved me.
Then you found someone else.
You abandon me. Why? I needed you.
But you left when things got hard.
I nod and listen and take every punch she throws.
I would have told you I didn't like him if we were friends.
But we aren't.
I'm in love with you.
Completely, utterly, and foolishly in love with you.
I made myself believe that if I sat back and smiled along
Then at least one of us could be happy.
But you're a monster!
A monster she calls me. A monster? But why?
You thought only of yourself.
If you weren't sure you shouldn't have sent that letter.
Was I a toy to you? Were you desperate for love?
No, I tell her. I thought I loved you. I tell her.
But she isn't listening.
She isn't screaming or crying or any of those things.
She's silent again.
And suddenly I miss the yelling.
Because silence is the worse.
It means you did something wrong.
It means their too tired and too weak to do anything else.
Silence is a punishment.
How could I be so foolish?
YOU ARE READING
Foolishly (Lesbian Story)
ChickLitWe were in love. Completely, utterly, and foolishly in love. And we let it all crumble. We say we couldn't. That we didn't. And we were foolish. Two friends, two lovers, and now? Now we are two strangers who were too foolish to know what we had and...