He said that the other day. I stopped breathing. Just for a minute. Maybe not even that long. My heart shattered and my brain scattered.
Just my best friend? Is that all? When did that stop being important?
A month ago he knew he was in love with me. Said it was for the first time in his life. He's 46 and I was his first love. His only love. He wanted me in his home, in his bed, in his life. Wanted to wake up next to me, spend his days with me, his life.
But now he doesn't know.
"I don't want to break up. I owe it to us to keep working on this. We're not breaking up, we're still moving forward," he says. "I feel positive, I feel like we're in a better place now."
*So where do we go? What place are you in?* I don't ask out loud, afraid of the answer.
I'm in the place where I am afraid of him. My heart is broken. I don't trust him anymore. I can't believe anything he says.
"I love you," he says.
*Liar* I think.
"I love you too," I say, not lying. I love him. I love him more then I have ever loved anyone else. My best friend for over a decade, The man I fell in love with. The one person I thought would always be there.
"You are my best friend. I can't imagine my life without you," he says.
*But you might have too,* I don't say this, not wanting to him to feel like I am trying to force him. But it's the truth. I can't go back to being his friend. Not when I've experienced how much more we are like this.
"I'm still here," he says.
*For how long?* I wonder.
"I know," I lie. For the first time ever I lie to him.
