Letting Go

It's been five years, and we haven't talked once, but still here he is at my doorstep, begging for forgiveness. I knew his pain, I was his best-friend since grade school. We grew up together, leaned on each other. I know his worst, his worse than his worst, and his better than his best, but he never showed the same attraction towards me. Sure, he helped me with my problems, gave a shoulder for me to cry on. He understood I came from a family of drinkers, he knew that it wasn't my fault. I love him, with my entire heart, and here he is on my three feet away, unaged in five whole years.

"Hey, I was in town, and I wanted to stop by and tell you that I love you, and you know I love you, but I've met someone else."

No, I didn't know you loved me. You saved that for now, because you never wanted a relationship with me. I stare at him blankly, unsure of any words he may deserve right now.

"I met her in Florida over break, and she's really cool. She's going to become a doctor, and we are getting married this fall. I wanted to see if you would come to the wedding?"

Rejection slaps me in the face, oh sure, I want to come to your stupid little wedding. Will she be there for you when a loved one dies? Or when you have a temper tantrum? Will she understand the things you go through because of your family? Does she come from that side of the tree?

Standing there with him in front of me, I know what I must do, I must shut him out. He brings me more bad than good anymore, and I cannot deal with it. I collect myself, take a deep breath, and in a sturdy sentace ask.



"I'm sorry, do I know you?"