Regret
by Cenowar

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It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You're one of those people who have that uncanny ability to just know, as soon as you meet someone, if they're going to special to you. You can't always tell how; you don't always know how deeply the bond will go. But there's something in the subtle art of being human that you can read on others, and when you read it on him you knew that he would be... different.

It took a while. Not a very long while - a matter of weeks at most, really - but it wasn't immediate. You skirted around each other at first, like two moths dancing around a lightbulb, neither of you quite wanting to admit that the other was there. And then you got drunk, the both of you, and sparks started to fly. The flirtatious accusations; the rampant teasing; the smiles in his voice, the giggles lacing yours.

It was different with him, because you did all the chasing. Fuelled and encouraged by the liquor and his smile, you asked for his number for an invented reason. It was tongue-in-cheek, half meant as jest, but to your surprise he took you up on it.

The texting didn't start until the following morning. "How's that hangover?" you asked with a wink. Never did you imagine the person this question would unlock.

You almost couldn't believe it.

Day after day of message after message, on social media, on your phone, through your friends, over voice chat. As the days wore on, the messages grew larger, longer, more in-depth. He started to show you sides of himself you suspected hadn't been shown to anyone in quite some time. You started to learn about his past, his histories, and who he was as a result. It didn't take you long to figure out that the normally kept things very close to his chest. Guarded, was the word you used. And it didn't take you long to see right through it.

He seemed surprised, at first, that you knew him so well despite not really knowing him at all. But, to your surprise, he didn't seem afraid of you - more, he seemed to relish it. The way you spoke and the things you said: he called you 'refreshing'. It fed your ego and you couldn't even deny it, so in return, you fed his right back.

After several weeks of talking every day and staying up until all hours unable to stop your conversations with each other, it began to dawn on you that maybe this was more than just friendship blossoming. That certainly hadn't been your intent, exactly. You were in a relationship, after all, although goodness knows over the last year the foundations of that had been tested.

But he was telling you all the things you had been waiting your whole life to hear. Not in a romantic way (you knew his boundaries, and he knew yours, and that was one of them); but the way he talked about what he wanted from life and how he was going to get there, his attitudes, his philosophy of life. You needed that, you realised with a moment of clarity. You needed it and you wanted it because it motivated you, too. It made you a better person. You both said so. Talking to him, and he talking to you - it made you better people. It made you aspire to be the best to each other you could be.

Until you weren't important any more. Until it stopped. Until the girl he'd been repressing his feelings for and deflecting on to you, a casual and convenient placeholder, appeared in his life and opened him up to the path he truly wanted.

It all stopped.

"I'm going to have a take a step back," he said, in a matter of fact way, seemingly without any kind of trouble. "It just doesn't send a very good message and I really like her."

"Okay," you said, lying through your teeth. "I'm happy for you. It won't be a problem."

You didn't want it to be a lie. You wanted it to be true. You wanted him to be happy, and this was as good a chance as any for him to get what he really wanted. But where did that leave you? Bereft of the comfort and companionship you had come so quickly to rely on; second guessing yourself, your feelings, and your motivations; wondering what he really wanted from the two of you, now that he had someone else. Someone real.

The truth is, he doesn't really want anything from you, any more.

You no longer get that sweetness from him. You don't get that tenderness, or care, or thought. You don't get the interest in your life, and you're no longer invited in to know his. You're no longer privileged to know him in the way that you wanted, or the impression that he'd given.

It can't have just been friendship, in that case. Friendship wouldn't have needed to change. It hurt, he told you, to make that decision - but you never saw any evidence of that. It hurt you. More than it should have, it cut you more deeply than you were expecting, because you'd let him in so far; because it was just like all the other times.

You weren't special. You weren't refreshing. You weren't worth pursuing beyond the bounds of filling an empty void that can now be filled by somebody else. You were just convenient.

Perhaps, one day, you'll meet someone who sees you as more than that. Perhaps one day you'll feel more than just convenient.

But today, and for many others, there is only the bitter taste of regret.

Fin.