To Anyone Who Still Thinks About Someone They Never Even Dated

It’s been so long now that I’m not even worried about you finding this—I know you’d never guess it was even about you.

I think it’s so hard for me to let you go because I knew you for such a short time so long ago.

My mind has started to take liberties with the memories I have of you, warping fleeting glances into burning eye contact and transforming late-night texts into secret love letters.

I’m sure these fragmented moments didn’t mean half as much to you as they did to me.

But I remember the first day I saw you.

I remember the sweater you were wearing, the way your hair looked, and how I tried to play it cool when you ended up sitting right beside me.

We didn’t talk a lot that day, but it was still the start of something.

That something grew slowly, with tiny moments that built themselves up into a solid foundation, and suddenly you were the person I couldn’t wait to talk to every single day.

We told each other everything (I always was a good listener) and you found a way to make me feel comfortable enough to confess my fears (you listened to me in a way nobody else did).

We shared songs and stories and movies and I fell in love with them all.

I liked the way you saw the world (almost as much as I liked the way you saw me).

I don’t think you ever meant to break my heart—I’m not sure you even knew you were capable of doing it. We were such good friends, after all.

The way it ended was halfway my fault for not telling you I wanted more and halfway yours for giving it to me without even trying.

But it wasn’t a quick break.

We didn’t shatter into so many pieces that we wouldn’t dream of putting them back together.

If we had, it might have been easier.

But we slowly broke down over time, the way a wave beats against a cliffside. You don’t realize it’s changing until you wake up to something unrecognizable.

I think that’s why I had (well, am having) such a hard time letting you go.

I find myself comparing everyone new to the version of you that still lives in the back of my mind.

I know it’s unfair (to them and you).

I’m not the same person I was back then, and you aren’t either.

We’re both tied up in new places and new people. But you’re the one loose end I can’t seem to let go of.

I know you’ve moved on from us.

You don’t drive through our old town and landmark the cityscape with the memories we made together.

You don’t drive past my old street and hope to see some ghost of me, even though I moved away years ago.

You’re happy, and I’m happy for you.

You don’t need this letter.

But really, this letter isn’t even for you.

It’s for me.

And it’s for everyone out there who feels exactly like me.

For the ones who feel like they’re crazy because they still think about someone they never even dated.

For the ones who had to smile through the heartbreak and congratulate the person they wanted to kiss for kissing someone else.

For the ones wondering if they’ll ever truly forget the way that person made them feel.

Honestly, I’m not sure they ever will (I’m not sure I ever will, either).

But I’m starting to believe that’s okay.

Why do we have to get over something that felt like magic?

Why are we in such a hurry to banish the good memories from our minds?

I’m slowly starting to see that not everything has to be black or white. Good or bad. Romance or heartbreak.

Sometimes, it’s enough to just let something be.

Whatever we were, we were something amazing. Something that changed me.

I’m better for it.

I hope you are, too.