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"I'd rather I meant nothing to him than someone special, someone he cared for," I say softly. "But why?" he argues, confused. "Wouldn't it comfort you knowing you meant something to him?" I bite my lip, weighing my words in my head carefully. "No," I say. "If I meant nothing to him, I'd be able to move on faster. But I know I was different; I could see it in the way he looked at me. It was the way he always treated me delicately, but knew I could fight my own battles. It was the way I know he always felt understood when we talked, or even when we didn't. It was the way he laughed - I'd never seen him laugh as much as when we were together." I sigh then, head full of memories past. I try to smile, but it comes out watery. "I hate knowing I was different from everyone else...because in the end, it didn't change anything."
tell me i meant nothing, tell me you didn’t care, if only so i can move on // thewriterain
Maybe we’ll meet in another lifetime...
The most bittersweet thing is to watch your friends grow and move on from you
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I didn't even notice when and how the hug went from a quick friendly one to a tight embrace with my head on your shoulder, while you were gently rocking our intertwined bodies.