So I’m not what you thought you needed. Can you forgive me, is the question. It’s all just a big parade of let downs and up drafts almost triumphs and sort of failures. Touch me here and my breath still catches in my chest. You see it and you look away. Try to run but you trip on our friendship. Sigh. Now which one of us really failed the other? Me for loving you more than you wanted or you, for fear of a thread, unraveling the entire pattern? One love need not exclude the other. I am a woman almost-grown and I know where the line lays and my priorities stand. I would not sacrifice a friendship for impossibility. We both knew where the other stood the words you launched so clumsily and tactlessly into the space between us were needless and caused more damage than my silent affection ever could.