I thought we were perfect once. That we could balance each other out, that I would give you the inspiration you crave and you would give me the peace I am so desperate for. But maybe we’re not meant for each other. You’re not my type and I’m not your type and so why are we back here again?We took a break for a year. We avoided each other, barely spoke. I avoided your places, your haunts, even your friends. I took a backstep in my own life, returned to old habits and lost my desire for others because some nights, all I could think about was you. I wanted you, even when you desperately wanted someone else. And it wasn’t just that kind of romantic love - it was the kind of love where we could talk to each other about anything, be happy in silence, be happy with nothing.And I loved you, even though each time you answered my questions I felt like my heart was breaking. I couldn’t keep the scraps of me together and instead I let them aside, and parts of me were lost too. Why do I let you have so much of me? I give you so much leeway, we both knew it. So why do you keep sabotaging this, even just the threads of our friendship?Why do you want to irrevocably destroy who I am, destroy the parts of me that make me who I am, make me feel like I am not worthy of anything? Somedays I blame you and somedays I can’t because I can’t help but feel you’re right. That I don’t deserve anything more than to be destroyed. I keep thinking and thinking. I don’t know what lies next. I want you and I don’t. I want us to be friends, to lean on each other. But sometimes I think I want more. To try this idea of dating, this question that hovers between us, that prevents us from being just friends. What is this whisper that our bodies seem to give around each other? There’s a question that lies in the air between us, a thought that we can never really put away. You have anxiety around me. I have anxiety around you.But sometimes I wonder if anxiety and desire are one and the same.That we could be it for each other. I wonder if we could last if we got through this. Or if we would just end in heartbreak, both in pieces that we can’t re-build. Why can’t we be friends with exes? Why can we not say that the part of our lives where we in love with each other is over, and that now we are just happy to be friends?This is a slow love story. And the ending is still in question. Maybe it has a happy ending. Maybe it doesn’t. I wish I knew.