To preface this I'll say I'm autistic, we both are. I'm also trans so that definitely comes into play, which will be important later. What's important to say here is that it was no one's "fault" or if it was, I don't care who it was.
I Ashlyn (21) female, and S (19-20 or so) were as close as friends could be, or at least I thought we were, we would hug one another each time we had the chance, when it was time to say goodbye, when we'd greet one another, it was something I had never experienced up to that point, having someone care for you enough to hug you? We'd say "I love you" to one another. It was alien to me, as a male socialized loner whose only real friends existed online, it was like a gateway had opened to my heart, and I repaid her basic kindness with every inch of love I had in my soul. I made her a bag in sewing class, I texted her every day, I asked how she was, I comforted her when things were dark, and in turn she gave me her attention. I tried to fight back my emotions for her, but the more I fought them, the more they refused to be snuffed out.
So I had developed a crush on my lesbian best friend without any hope of being able to be honest about it, I denied it, I tried to mention it, my struggle, but it was too scary. I couldn't tell her, I couldn't be honest, I couldn't be true to myself. Turns out there was a whole lot more going on under the surface, like how she'd point out how all my favorite ocs I liked to draw were essentially just gender-swapped versions of what at that time was myself. She saw a side of me I had buried under deep below, she meant so much to me, I honestly don't think I would have made it through like I did without her.
It turned out she wasn't strictly a lesbian either, but I didn't learn that until it was far too late. But this all changed when I graduated, I was a senior, she a junior. So when school started again, she got busy, and we stopped talking as much. Things felt different, and it wasn't just one day it all changed, this was gradual. As time went on, I fell even deeper into my depression, my repression. This was the time I needed her the most, but little by little, day by day, she drifted away from me. It was like watching something as valuable as life itself slowly fade into an impossible horizon, and no matter how much I reached out. She would barely ever reach back, she was busy she said. She had started college after graduating, in which I had biked all the way across the city to be there for her. She had another friend which I pretended not be jealous of, I watched her slip away into the arms of another, and it felt like torture.
I had figured out my transness at this point, but doubted myself, thinking it was a ploy to finally be attractive to her. Even when I did come out, she barely reacted, we had a few good phone conversations though, which each sparked hope that maybe just maybe things were the way they were again, but they weren't.
I was told I was too much to invite to their "hangouts", that it was all something wrong with me, but I was only trying to express my dismay, be her friend again, but time again and again, she chose him. Which hurt me, but admitting such a thing would just made me look even worse, even more immature, even less desirable of a friend. So I held my tongue, I held my words until I couldn't take it one day longer. I had to tell her everything. So I did, in the worst way possible, through text. I would have told her face to face, but I couldn't for the life of me get her to meet me. So I poured it all out in a text and awaited the reply, the waiting felt like torture. I did see Tron: Ares that day so that was pretty cool, but other than that, it was not a fun day.
I was starting my hormone replacement therapy, my emotions were in overdrive, my body was changing, my mind was changing. It was all new to me, hell I hadn't cried in years accept when it was about her. I tried so hard to accept the answer she gave when I told her.
She only saw me as a friend, and not a very good one at that, so I spiraled into my infatuation for her just to numb the pain, I BEGGED her to just talk to me one on one, without him around the corner, but no matter what I tried, I was ignored. The last time I could even get her to CALL ME was on Christmas Eve where I had just been kicked out, I wanted her love again, but even then I had to beg, I had to tell her I was practically homeless for her to call me, but when she did, she called me "Hon" and before she had rested her head on my shoulder. All of this cemented my confusion about the nature of our relationship, why was she avoiding me? Why was she being this lovey dovey with me when she KNOWS I've had a crush on her. It was in her presence in that call that I felt even slightly alright with my situation at the time, crying alone in an empty dark motel room, with the heaviest storm in years blasting against the glass, my "banishment" two days prior still heavy on my mind.
Then when I finally felt like I was getting somewhere that wasn't a gutter or dank motel room, I found out the truth, she and him, were an item. I was never told, I guess I didn't need to be, but it would have been nice. That was the final straw for me, I couldn't take it anymore, so I told them I needed away from them, that I needed time to process, they told me I was being childish. That I was the arrogant one, that I caused all this anguish, that I was the bad friend.
So I decided to burn every bridge that led back to her from my life, I threw away memories, burned away what had brought me so much joy, just to save myself from even more mental torment, I told them off, I said a lot of cruel things, but that's what I felt was necessary to save myself any more pain. I'd burn away the tumor, even if it hurt me in the process.
So that's my story, or at least what I could fit here, I still see her sometimes, with him. She always looks so sad, why is after everything I still feel guilty, like it's my fault she's sad?
I'm so sorry Bhan, I'm sorry how fucked up everything got...