Of course I am happy for them. They are my best friends, and they are so happy together. I’d have to be a cruel heart to not be happy for their happiness.
And when the three of us are together—it’s like nothing’s ever changed. I mean, maybe they sit a little bit closer together than they would have before, but I don’t feel like a third wheel on date night. It feels like we’re still three best friends, reveling in each other’s company, as happy as can be. And I love them for that.
But, it’s when I know they are alone together that it settles heave in my stomach. When I lay alone in my bed and I know that they are together in their own apartment, making memories and jokes and lovely moments that I will never, can never been a part of. And that hurts. That hurts more than I will ever be able to explain or even really have the right to feel. And I don’t know what can be done about that.
So, what else am I supposed to do? I’ve just got to find a way to make it go away, or barring that, find a way to suck it up. Because I wouldn’t dare wish against their happiness in any way. I just wish there was a simple way that they could be happy, and I didn’t have to be left out. But there is no such thing as an easy answer here.