I lost my girlfriend, who was also my best friend.

Where do I even begin? Before I met Z, I was in a really low place in my life. I had moved with my mum and her new partner to a new house and I was struggling with the change. Nothing was the same and I didn’t know how to cope with it. Then I eventually got a food delivery job and I used that to distract myself from how I felt and I worked every single night and weekends too without a break because staying home drove me crazy. Then some time later I met someone and we started dating long distance. It was pretty good, I didn’t feel as lonely or depressed anymore. Then only a few months later I met Z. I woke up one morning to a message from my mum with a link to a Facebook post. I thought it was just another job she had found for me and, even though I was very appreciative of my mum’s efforts to help me find a more permanent job, I honestly was just going to ignore. However, I decided to click on it, and to my surprise it was a post made by a 19 year old girl looking for someone who liked drawing and art. So, I messaged Z and we immediately hit it off, talking about our interests and realising we had a LOT in common with each other, I could barely believe it. Anyway, eventually we met up in person and I remember seeing her sitting on the park table, back turned, looking so pretty in the sunlight. I’ll avoid going into detail about everything that happened, otherwise I’d end up writing a whole book. We drew together, then we got desserts, went to an opp shop before finally going back to the park and hugging and saying goodbye. Over time we grew to become best friends. I’d always drive over to her house no matter how little fuel or money I had because being with her healed my soul. We used to draw and do crafts together. We both made little clay frog rings for ourselves that we would eventually call our wedding rings when we were dating lol. Even as friends we would sleep together in the same bed. I never found it weird and honestly I didn’t think she was interested in me so I took it as her feeling safe around me and it was lovely to have a platonic connection like that with someone. I can still remember that nostalgic smell of old cigarette smoke from her parents smoking all the time around her that clung to her clothes, mixed with her own natural sweet scent. It brought me comfort. Even when she would leave my house I could still smell her on my sheets and it made me feel less anxious at night time. I remember the night we confessed our love for each other. It was late at night and I was at her house and I wanted to drive back to mine to get a game console so we could play together. She wanted to come with me, so we drove to my place, got the console then drove back to hers. As we were about three quarters of the way there she began telling me how much she missed her pop who had died only a year before. Then she told me to pull over to tell me something. I did and it began to rain ever so gently outside. I turned the music coming through the stereo down so that it was barely audible. Z struggled to look at me and I could tell that whatever she had to say was big. And then it clicked in my brain and I understood what it was she was trying to say, so before she could get the words out I told her I love her. Her eyes went wide and she looked up at me and told me the same. We tentatively moved our faces close to each other and pressed our lips to the other’s until we were one and the same and we moved with the passion that burned in our souls. After we kissed, we drove back to her house where we did more intimate things with each other and eventually fell asleep. The next morning, however, she was hysterical and saying that she was going to mess things up and that it wouldn’t work out which made me really scared. I tried to calm her down and soon she did. After that we took things more slowly (much to my relief, as that’s what I preferred) and we did lots of fun things together like when we were friends. Anyway eventually she got a caravan that I helped her clean out and decorate and we moved from her bedroom into there. Then her nan got sick of her parents and their kids living in her house and so she kicked them out. It was very stressful. Z’s caravan had to be sold which was heartbreaking, especially after all the effort we put into it. Months later they moved out and I went with them for a week at their new home. It was great. I have so many fond memories from that week. They lived at there new house for nearly exactly a whole year until just recently where they got a new house. In between all this time Z and I did so SO much together that it would take me hours to write it all down in great detail, for I remember so much of our relationship we had. But I’ll restrain myself. One thing I have to say is that I never much liked her mum. She was a very black and white thinker, a massive hypocrite, and hated most people and did nothing but smoke and sleep and dsomscroll on social media. I’m sure she loves her children, no doubt, but she also controlled them so that they would never and could never leave her and be independent as she gets disability money from her children. It was depressing to see all this but not be able to say anything for fear of being cut off from seeing Z ever again, just like Z’s former friend who had tried to help her in the past. I tried to encourage Z to get in contact with her old friend but she was so scared to because of what her mum would think. I brought it up one more time before I gave up completely, realising it was hopeless. We had so many happy times together, playing video games, making each other jewellery, drawing, cooking, and showering together. I miss it so damn much. We even both took each other’s virginity too.

The one thing I miss the most is the loneliness at night without her. The blackness seems to suffocate me now, like it did before I met her. It’s really hard not being reassured anymore that I would have someone to say goodnight to. I miss our little routine behaviours, I miss being goofy together, I miss her smell, I miss the faces she would make, I miss her voice, I miss her soft lips, I miss looking at her cute face while she was still asleep in the morning. And so many other things. Now it’s all gone. The flame was snuffed out and the darkness pounced on me, devouring my soul. How does a person who committed so much to someome they loved; who sacrificed so much to be with them, just move one? No matter how much I gave, I never received even half in return. She loved me and didn’t mean not to give much back, but she just wasn’t mature enough. Her mental maturity was always quite low but I never minded. She understood adult topics and everything like that perfectly fine, but she wanted to avoid reality and stay safe inside the flimsy little cocoon her mum had built for her. Never becoming independent or growing as a person. It sucks. I loved her so much and always told her how much I loved her. I would drop everything I was doing just to be with her and do what she wanted. So much of the things I enjoyed before have become tainted now by the memory of her. I break down crying and become easily overwhelmed when I enter a shop we used to go to together, or play a game we used to play. It gets too much at times. One thing I’m scared of is Z becoming old and alone in the future with no family or friends there for her because she’s cut everyone off. I have no hate for her, even now. I just wish that she has a good life and is always safe and happy, wherever she is. I love you, Z, even if you don’t love me.