Our friend asked me,
"you know Grey has a girlfriend, right?
Two years.
Crazy, huh?"
And suddenly̶
the world stopped pretending.
I swallowed the lump in my throat,
the truth still bitter
from when I first heard it.
"Yeah,"
I said softly,
like it didnʼt crack my ribs.
"Yeah.
I just found out a few weeks ago."
He stared at me.
And then came the dagger,
with ribbons of confusion.
"I thought you two were dating."
I laughed̶
God,
I laughed.
Because if I didnʼt,
Iʼd fall apart.
"No,"
I said,
and I felt every syllable
stab my lungs.
"Weʼre just friends."
Just.
Friends.
Even when he waited outside my door
with noodles at 3 a.m.
when my stomach ached
and my heart ached more.
Even when he asked me
what shirt to wear,
what words to say,
how to breathe on the hard days.
Even when I was
the only number he saved
besides his motherʼs.
Even when he let me fall asleep
with his jacket on my shoulders
and a whisper in my ear
saying,
"youʼre safe."
We were just friends.
So I told him again,
when he looked at me
like I made no sense.
"No,"
I said,
"No. We never dated."
Even if everyone
believed we did.
Even if my heart
still believes we should have.