Moving On

Friends. Boys. Friends. Boys. Friends. Boy. Friend. Boy. Boy. Friend.

I woke up this morning, having Sara Evans' song, A Little Bit Stronger, playing through my head.
"Woke up late today, and I still feel the sting of the pain..."

But I knew I was moving on over him. Broken hearts, broken friendship, just plain broken in general.
I loved you. I really did. I still do. Whatever happens, you will always have a special place in my heart. But now we have established a middle ground; we are going to be the best of friends. It hurts still, knowing you are gone, that you don't love me anymore...but it is all going to be okay.



I wanted so much for it to work out. I wanted to be loved, to be cherished, not just by anyone, but you. I wanted you. Yet as time passed, I realized that we were more meant to be friends, companions to each other, than to be lovers.



We were much too similar. Too alike. I want and need someone who wouldn't mind my extreme independence, who understood my childhood mentality, loved that I wanted to still be a child even though I am almost stepping into adulthood. I needed someone mature enough to wait for me to open up, to wait for me to love when it was right, to let me fly when I wanted to be free. Someone who realizes that I will never be able to completely let go of my vulnerabilities, that I will always have a hard time letting them in. I promise I will try, but he must understand that is who I am. I stand strong on my own, I bounce back quickly. He must be willing to stand by my side when I can support myself, give me a hug when I need it, allow me to keep to myself. I want someone who knows how completely psychotic I am, and will not want me any other way.

If you are reading this now, I want you to know that I will always be here for you. I don't know if I will ever again love you the way I did before, but who knows what the future will bring? But I do want you to know one thing: no matter what happens, I am and always will be your best friend.