those hands used to be mine

ph: Emily Callahan // allfangs andelbows

My dear L.,

This is the email I will probably never send you. I will never admit how much it hurts to hear you're taking another girl out, buying her glasses of wine, holding her hand in the cinema and sending her text messages. I used to be that girl, for 4 years.
I don't know what exactly happened. We stopped being in love with each other. We stopped having fun. The routine took over our lives and before we knew it, I was taking a plane in a direction and you were taking a train in the other one.

We still talk. I still cannot imagine my life without you. You were my best friend and you can't abandon your best friend when something bad happens. I know I was the one who said we should break up. I know. Although I still know we're not right for each other and if we ever got back together we would drive each other crazy in less than a week, although I know all of that I cannot imagine your hands, your beautiful hands I used to love, touching another girls, caressing her neck, her thighs, making her feel special. Those hands used to be mine. I miss those hands. I miss you. I miss us, our wine bottles and bookshelf, the way you would walk in on me while I was taking a shower, the way you used to carry me home at night when I'd had one too many drinks, I miss kissing you in the morning before I'd leave to university.

It's a bit too late for this now. And we're too far away. I am not saying I wish we were together again because I know it wouldn't work out, at least not now, not in this world. But I do admit I lie in bed at night, thinking of you, of how you're now learning the smell of another girl's hair and the shape of her ankles.

I miss you. But you're still my best friend so from the bottom of my heart, I hope she can make you happier than I ever managed to.

T.