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I'm sorry. I know that no one sees it as,
"Them, there, they hurt her. It was them that made her cry."
And I know that no one ever thought this because I am your friend. Friends don't make each other cry.
Right?
Wrong.
I made you cry. I know I did. I never meant to. And I'm sorry. I knew that you were hurting always. I was too. We are both people who are sad, all the time. But when people see us, we smile. Because crying would burden them to help us. You and I are the same. Sometimes our smiles aren't to hide. Sometimes our smiles aren't from being happy. But they are from finally not being sad. I loved you. I still do. You are the best friend anyone could wish for. But I was an awful friend. I am an awful friend. I burdened you with my sadness, to which you often cried. I burdened you with my pain, to which you often cried as well. And I am so very sorry for making you cry. I always was. But now, more than ever, it weighs down on me. Because now, I am learning how to love myself, and how to find reasons to love myself. I can say with full confidence that you are one of the many reasons I don't love myself. But that doesn't mean that you don't care about me, or even that I don't love you still. If I can love you, that's all I need. Happiness? Gone. Other friends? Out the window. But you? You were my rainbow. You are my rainbow. I'd be in a sky pouring down rain, and you would suddenly appear from the tiny bit of light that the clouds parted for. You gave me smiles when I had nothing to smile about. You gave me joy when I had nothing to rejoice about. You gave me conversation when I wasn't worth even words. When I was an outcast, mistreated, misjudged, and unloved, you were there to treat me well, judge me right, and love me more than anyone else. But I still made you cry. I made you cry by letting you help me, and I'm sorry. To say that I regret it would be a lie. I loved spending nights with you, venting about my problems, hugging, when no one else would cross that boundary. No one else *could* cross that boundary. I said no hugs. That was it. Anyone who tried? Pushed back. Ran from. I've even gone so far as hiding in a stall to get away from hugs. I had, for the longest time, held a reputation as the person who hadn't hugged someone in years. Now *that* was some gossip. Every person in school hugs someone. Their parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, significant others, and such. Even their friends. And *even* normal people. Just people you met. Can you believe that? To just give away their hugs like that? To me, a hug was like a first kiss, except no matter how many times you've hugged someone, it was just as important as the last time. I would probably be that way about kisses too, though I don't know, I've never kissed anyone. I think that everyone else has a problem. Not me. They give away their hearts so easily. Give away their kisses. Their hugs. When honestly, each kiss is just as important as the first. Same for hugs. You give a hug, it means 'I love you.' You give a kiss, it means 'I really love you.' Anything else to me means, 'you are my one and only. I will love you, and only you forever.' Of course, other people are liars, so these hugs and kisses mean nothing. So many people steal kisses. Some people tried to steal my hugs. They'd trap me. Wrap their arms around me and say, "Now you've hugged someone. Hah." And I'd tell them with a neutral tone, I'd say, "No I haven't. You have hugged me. Yes. But I have not hugged you. And you cannot make me." While all these people were trying to steal my hugs, you did not try to steal them. You asked for them. "Can I hug you?" "No." "Okay." Then again some time after, and once, you stole a hug from me. And unlike everyone else, you actually took it. You hugged me from behind to say goodbye, so, in my moment of fluster, -aware that the one person who had ever helped me, and talked to me daily, asking for hugs sometimes, and making me feel better at other times- I lightly hugged your arm that wrapped around me. I had never felt that before. Care. True, honest, pure care. I wished- and still do- that I could feel that every day. It wasn't only the care that mattered, it was the fact that in that moment, I felt flustered. I only ever felt that when I was on a stage, of making a speech, but when it was in those cases it felt awful. But this. This kind of fluster. This was the best feeling ever. I was anxious, and nervous, and happy, and startled all at once, but one emotion bubble up past the butterflies. Happy. I was so, so very happy. I had been hugged. Normally, it didn't matter. It didn't matter because the person hugging me didn't matter. But this person? This person mattered more than anyone in the world. They were the Little My to my Snufkin. They were perfect. They are perfect. They're you. This hug was the first of many, our cuddles were the first of many, the tears we cried together were the first of few, and I always had one goal in sight: Make her happy. But if I had to choose a second, it would be to make me happy. But that would mean changing you, or letting you go. I couldn't do that. So I stuck to goal number one. To make you happy. And that's the goal I plan to follow. I will make you happy. But one day, if for some mystical reason, you begin to love me too... Then maybe I won't have to give up my number one to save my number to. You. And me.
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