i think i like him. the problem is… so does she.

okay so this might be messy… but whatever. i need to let it out somewhere that isn’t in my head for once.

i have this best friend (let’s call her idk… Rhea or something). we’ve known each other since 2nd grade. and no, it hasn’t always been super warm-hugs-and-sleepovers kind of friendship. it was more of a... “we stuck around each other for years” kinda thing. she’d always have new friends every year, added onto our duo like little bonus packs. and weirdly, i didn’t mind. even though i used to be the extroverted one, there was no weird tension. no competition. just two girls who ate lunch together and laughed sometimes and existed side by side.

then lockdown happened. we got closer. but it wasn’t just us anymore the duo became a trio. and i don’t know if it was my insecurity or just plain misunderstanding, but i started feeling left out. and the worst part? no one noticed. or maybe they did, but said nothing. and then came academic pressure, and yeah… jealousy. which felt wrong. like i was being a bad friend for even feeling it.

we drifted. we reconnected. we drifted again. maybe it was a little toxic. but i liked what we had, even in its flawed way. we were good at different things, so the competition never clashed... until it kinda did.

fast forward to college. different streams, different directions. all good… until i saw this guy. tall, kind of effortlessly cool. the type that feels like a glitch in your daily routine. it was probably just a silly crush but in the moment, it felt like a moment. love at first sight maybe. you know the drill. and i did what every girl does i ranted. to Rhea. for weeks. every tiny thing he did, every barely-there interaction. and she just… listened. or i thought she did.

then one day, randomly, she texts me saying “i have something to tell you” followed by “nvm i’ll tell you at the sleepover.” like????? why even say that then??? i got frustrated, obviously, and told her just spill. she tells me she has a crush on someone.

i was happy for her. genuinely. it was the first time ever she’d caught feelings for someone. but then she sends me his picture taken secretly in class. and it’s him. the guy. the one i’d been going on and on about.

apparently, she never really paid attention to my rants. said she wasn’t sure if it was the same guy from the library. my heart sank. i didn’t even correct her. i did the most self-betraying thing  i encouraged her. told her to go for it.

then... i panicked. i slid into his DMs, through classmates and impulse. hoping maybe there could be something. but it felt wrong. so i decided to come clean. or… partially clean. i lied about the timeline a bit. told her i used to like him. told her we’d flirted before i knew she liked him. told her i was gonna ask him out after exams.

but i also told her she could go for it. that i’d back off. and she did the whole “no no, if you like him, go ahead” thing. said she didn’t have the courage anyway. said she had an image, a personality to maintain and sliding into a guy’s DMs wasn’t something she could risk.

so i dropped it. told her i was over him. maybe a part of me believed that too.

weeks passed. she kept talking about him. not just talk  dreams, little poetic lines from songs, even Taylor Swift lyrics. “cause he was never mine, nevermind,” she said once. and even though i’d been her personal cheerleader through it all… it started to feel off.

every time she talked about him, it was like i wasn’t allowed to have ever liked him. like i’d just made it up. like my part of the story didn’t count.

we kept pushing her to make a move or let it go. she kept resisting. said she couldn’t. then finally she sent him a follow request.

and now... i’ve seen some of their chats. the flirty tones. the late night convos. and i don’t know what this feeling is.

it’s not really jealousy. i didn’t even love him like that. but i did like him. and i did move on. and now watching all this unfold the girl who didn’t even listen when i talked about him, the girl who said she’d never make a move  suddenly stepping into this story like i was never part of it…

i don’t know what this emotion is. it’s not heartbreak. it’s not anger. it’s not even just insecurity. it’s just… weird. empty in a sharp way. like i was erased from my own story.

maybe none of it matters. maybe it was never that deep. but it still stings. and i can’t tell anyone. because i was the one who said “i’m over it.”

i was the one who said “you should go for it.”

and now i’m here. typing this. feeling like a side character in a story i used to narrate.

anyway… that’s all. if you read this far, idk. thanks.