Have you ever known someone for so long- believed that you were so close to them nothing could possibly separate you?
Have you known someone like that- in that way- and felt so . . . far away from them?
She did this to me.
I still don’t –to this very day- understand why I let myself fall for someone like her the way I did, when it was clear!- obviously, painfully, pristinely clear that we were not meant to be.
But she was so beautiful: her eyes the color of the sunset, so warm- so inviting- yet so distant, yet curious; her very self was something to just . . . cherish. It was inevitable for me; like being dragged down deep under the never ending sea kicking and grasping- panicking- as you try so hard to get back to the surface for air.
She was my bottomless ocean and my surface.
She was no good for me, yet I needed her to live.
Her name was Evaine Longing.
Ironically, she had the name that basically told its own story, because I did exactly that: long for her.
She was my next door neighbor for fourteen years.
She was also my best friend.
I will tell you this now: it is always . . . always the best friend.
I’ve cursed them ever since- since. . .
She was my best friend that is all that matters for the moment.
We were six when we first met.
It was winter time in New England- a very brutal winter which to this day I am surprised we ever met at all because our encounter involved the outdoors. Either way: we met, and still, like the idiot that I am, I do not regret meeting her.
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