When You Met Me

I remember when you met your man. You were genuinely so happy, the happiest I’d seen you in years. It was adorable to watch you fall for him. 

I was there for it all, the fall, the proposal, the first apartment, the marriage, the house, the day you found out you were pregnant with your first. Until I wasn’t.    

A last minute invite to the first kids baby shower. Still I showed, I was certain you were just overwhelmed. You were too wrapped up in it all to see how much I was struggling that year, still I made myself get out of bed, order last minute gifts, and show up for you.

My first apartment house warming missed, of course though, you’re not feeling well, stressed with the pregnancy, I get it.

His birth announced on Facebook but I wasn’t an active user so I had no idea. Of course, I get it, your first kid, overwhelmed, I get it, truly. I found out later however. 

Your second kid I didn’t even get the private text. Didn’t even know of their existence till they were born because I just happened to be logging into Facebook for high school reunion nonsense. That one cut. Yet still, a second kid? Damn, I so happy for you, I know how hard you prayed for a family.

It started way before the kids though.

We used to go to every Marvel premiere together, but once he came around our thing became yall's thing. It couldn’t even be a shared thing, I was just out. I remember the argument it caused. I let you have it because I figured we would have so many other things. I didn’t know at the time that it would be the first of many things I’d lose.

We used to have dinner nights and just hangout together for hours talking about random shit. Texting everyday too. Not that it’s at all necessary, just that we kept in touch, and generally knew what was up with each other. We'd take random trips to mountain tops were we'd get lost, and simply just made time for each other, we were a part of each others lives.

Once he came around, I seemed to only be able to hold your attention for an hour before he’d call you back home, and you’d still be on the phone texting with him the whole time while you were with me anyways. 

It didn’t matter how many years passed, I could always count on the habitual tardiness. So much so that you went from being an emergency contact to not being an emergency contact at all because I genuinely didn’t think you’d arrive on scene in time if anything did happen. It wasn’t quirky anymore, it became inconsiderate and genuinely always made me feel unimportant. And yet I loved you enough to work with it. 

It’s been nearly fifteen years together. We grew up together, you’ll always be a part of me. The story of how we met will always be the funniest- straight out of a movie shit, and for now, I’ll keep it between us. 

Maybe people do grow apart, maybe things go unsaid on both sides for too long and un-communicated expectations lead to premeditated resentments. 

There have been plenty moments not mentioned here where I’ve felt unseen. But I’m not saying all this to tally up a score. Despite how I feel unchosen in every moment, in every decision, since he came into the picture, somehow with you, my friend, a score still doesn’t matter. At the end of the day even if you never choose me, I’d still always show up for you I think. 

It came to at a certain point though, that there was only so much I could watch from the outside of your beautiful home before it literally broke my heart waving from the window outside, wondering if you’d ever look my way again. You may be 30 minutes down the farm road, but my dear friend, you feel 30 light years away. 

Fifteen years ago, in my heart I gained a sister and I always thought she’d be there. 

You gained your beautiful family and I somehow slowly fell away from it. 

I remember when you met him, but do you remember when you met me?