So we meet again. I am not sure what to say to you after the falling out we had the Last Time. I don’t even really know why you’re here. Maybe you just enjoy playing games with me. I know that you enjoy torturing me, that’s for sure.

We used to be such good friends, you & I. I used to spend my mornings thanking the rest of the cosmic world that you were around. I thought you had nothing but my best interests at heart, and that you would take care of me, and her, until the end of time. It had to work out, because why would you bring her to me if she wasn’t going to remain in my arms? But that was exactly what happened. She was gone, and in the same instant so was my faith in you, fate. To me you seemed so cruel.

Slowly I came to realize that maybe it wasn’t you precisely that took her from me, but you weren’t looking out for me either. I learned that I was wrong, very wrong, in counting on you to help me because you weren’t on my side. And that hurt immeasurably. I was not an innocent; I was not naive. But I was 19 and I believed in you.

And you laughed in my face.

So we parted ways, and I was glad to have you out of my life. Relieved in ways I can’t describe. But my view of life was entirely different. I rewrote my worldview and decided that only my future partner and I could control our romance – you would have no place in our lives because you would do us no good. All was fine. Or so I thought.

Because now you’ve made this unexpected re-appearance in my life, and I don’t know how to deal with you. And I am so angry. Mostly because I am scared. I didn’t want you here, and I didn’t even see you coming. The last time you appeared with a flourish and yelled SOULMATE so loudly at me I couldn’t do anything but stand paralysed for a moment, staring. This time you snuck up on me, hiding in the thoughts of the woman I fell in love with. And yes, you are even in my thoughts as well. I have been so happy with her that I have again begun to think that maybe, just maybe, you actually are my friend.

But I don’t really trust you. I feel like a puppy that has been kicked around, and then it’s master wants to play. I desperately want to believe you’re sorry and you’re going to make it up to me. But I am scared that if I believe you, you will hurt me again when my guard is down.

I’m willing to beg, if it will stop that scenario from happening. Screw dignity, I am so helplessly in love that I will do anything. I just need some truth from you. Because as much as I believe in she and I, I fear you will rip her away from me, just like before.

She believes in you, you know? That’s what scares me the most. She believes you know best, that if it’s mean to be it will work out, no matter what life throws our way. And despite the fact that I am working my damndest to both counteract you and not piss you off, we are still weak. Because she believes. I wish I could too, really. She is far less worried than I am.

But I guess that makes sense. I am the one moving and changing my life to be with her. And God, I want to be with her. We are both so young. 21 and 23 are not ages where we can give guarantees to each other. But I would try to give a guarentee, whereas she would not, preferring to tell me that horrid phrase of yours, you know the one - "if it’s meant to be . . ."

But I’ll do it all anyway, because she is worth it. She is worth the risk of you kicking me in the face again.

If you really want my friendship back, you better F***ing prove you’re on my side.

If not, I’ll be ready for a fight.

--A