I'm trying really hard to keep that smile on my face, almost as if I'm her mirror, trying to keep my smile as big as hers, begging the butterflies to stay and the empty pit that was, is, my stomach to disappear. I know why she used the past tense. I know exactly why, and its all my fault. I hope she doesn't notice my faltering smile, or my sad eyes, and I hope she never realizes what I did to you, because I'm afraid that if she knew that she'd never speak to me again. Is that what you wish you could do? Just wipe me from your memory, erase every trace of me from your life? Because I'd never do that. Even if it meant always having this awful pain, I'd remember every single moment that passed between us, down to the millisecond, and I'd cherish it forever.

And thats when I tell her that you've been distant. I tell her that we didn't talk as much the week before the conference as we usually did, and I ask her if that could be the reason why. But then she says something that simultaneously brings back my hope and breaks me. She tells me that it takes two to have a conversation. And she's right. That week before the conference, did you stop talking to me because I stopped talking to you, or did you stop because you were tired of me already? I guess I don't really get to be mad at you, since I did it too. But maybe you were just scared, like I was? Scared that it'd end up just like every other relationship you've ever had? Scared that you wouldn't be enough?

I ask her what I should do about it, and I really mean it. Because one part of me wants to tell you, God I want to tell you, in my own words this time. But another part of me is so so scared. Its been so many years since I've been scared of rejection, scared of everything that comes with putting myself out there. But its you, how could I not be scared? Losing you would be like losing a piece of me, losing all of my heart. It'd be like losing my best friend and my love. It'd be torture, so how could I not be afraid? She tells me theres only a few days left of the conference, until you get on a plane and fly thousands of miles away from me.

Do you remember when you joked about shipping yourself here in a box just to bring me food? Well, not just any food, Costa Rican cuisine of course. But then you told me that, even though that was a joke, that you'd be more than happy to spend your summers working to save up enough money to come visit me. That any time you'd get with me would be worth it. And now here we are, in the same place for all of four days, and if I even get a single conversation with you I'm lucky. Would you still spend all your money to fly to me, or am I just not worth it anymore? 

Was I ever?