Let's backtrack to that night at his house. You definitely got too drunk, I had had a bit to drink as well, and every fiber in my body was telling me that we were who we were one year ago - in love, entangled, and forever. I was hyperaware, knowing every move you made. I decided to go upstairs to the room you all were in and sat down next to you. I said something that made you laugh, you put your hand on my thigh, and there was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to be yours, in every way I was yours a year ago.
Twenty minutes later, you're outside having a heart-to-heart with Eric, saying things have been so hard, saying you've tried but it's not getting better. You are mine and I am yours, no matter what we tell anyone else or what we tell ourselves, and I could not stop myself from approaching you, hugging you, and asking you to please, please tell me what was wrong. "Tomorrow. I promise."
Tomorrow. You came to my house with some friends, things were back to normal. We said hi, we spoke, but the connection wasn't there. But when you were leaving, I asked you to stay, to explain.
"I miss you. And there's nothing you need to do about it. I just need you to know. If circumstances were different, if we weren't so far apart... I just miss you."
That was the hardest thing to hear. When I'm here, I can distance myself, I can go weeks without thinking of you, I can hang out with other boys and feel happy with them, I can think about the possibility of my future with someone else. But being home is hard. Everywhere I go, there's a memory of you and I lingering - the school parking lot where we sat in my car for two hours talking about absolutely nothing before we knew we were good together, the hill where we had our first kiss, the parks where we spent our afternoons on pseudo-picnics, the route from my house to yours that I could drive with my eyes closed from all the times I had to drive there.
I miss you, too. So incredibly, unbearably so. And I'm so sorry. It was honestly too much for me, it was so insanely emotionally draining, and I hated myself for treating you so poorly. I hated how much you could still care for me even when I was treating you like shit - your final offer: I'm willing to keep trying if you want to. I gave you none of my time, none of the love you deserved, and you were still willing to try.
"...I just miss you." How I refrained myself from grabbing hold of you, I will never know. A soul-bearing response came from my end: "I miss you, too. But you know we can't work out. I need you to know that I do miss you, and you're not alone in feeling that, but we're both too logical to do anything about this right now. If things were different... I'm so sorry for being a shitty person, you didn't deserve it. If things were different, maybe in the future... You're amazing, and there's no way I could not miss you. But you're strong, and I think you can live your life wonderfully, even without me in it."
"Thank you. It means so much to me to hear that you miss me."
Hugs. Tears. An unfinished conversation, an unbearable heaviness between us, and unspoken promises that we belong to each other, that we are one, that we will grow separately and then maybe together again at some point. Then goodbye, and you drove home.
I miss you. And that's all I could say to you, over and over again, but somehow it captured every emotion and every thought I wanted to convey. You are amazing, you deserve the absolute best, and I wish you the world right now - please be okay, please don't let me interfere with anything in your life. But please, please, let the little things remind you of me - if someone asks you to stay awake with them, don't forget that's how we became friends, if you have nothing to do and you go hang out at a park, remember that was ours, and if you have late night drives, remember all that we learned about each other from those nights.