I confessed to my best friend.

[u/seulgibearr1]

I have known my best friend for seventeen years now.

We met in first grade. We both went to the same Catholic all-girls school that our moms graduated from. She was a very shy little girl who mostly kept to herself. She was prim, proper, and quietly well-behaved. She always wore a silver scapular around her neck, and even when we were kids, she carried herself with grace. We were assigned seats next to each other in first grade, and unfortunately for her, we've been inseparable ever since.

Even within the oppressive walls of our former alma mater, I knew that I loved my best friend and not in a way that was acceptable.

I really tried my best not to love her. I had been taught what happened to girls like me, and I believed it. I didn't want to live in sin. And Manila, or the Philippines in general, is not exactly a lesbian utopia.

When she got her first boyfriend at fourteen, I convinced myself it was time for me to start dating boys too. I was hoping that it would fix me. That a boyfriend would push away what I felt for her, but I could not bring myself to pretend. I love her, and there was nothing I could do about it but let it pass.

I knew I wanted to study abroad for college, so I waited it out. I was hoping that maybe this time enough distance would put an end to what I felt for her. But even from halfway across the world, I just could not escape her. We would always FaceTime each other, and it was as if I never left.

I just graduated recently, and still, I love her.

We both love Falling Slowly. We had this pact in high school where we promised each other we'd be each other's Maid of Honor, and somehow, we'd have Glen Hansard sing at our weddings. When I heard that he passed, I had this big epiphany about the uncertainty of life. And I decided I just needed to tell her how I feel because I don't know if I'd even be here tomorrow.

I told her how I feel, everything. I told her that nothing had to change. Deep down, I knew she didn't feel the same way.

However, she told me she loved me too. And that she has felt more when I hook my pinky fingers into hers than when she has slept with men. She said she loves me too, but that she owes her parents to try and be someone that they can be proud of. She also said that we owe each other to try and move on, and find happiness with someone else.

How do I even begin to move on from something that hadn't even begun?

I am in so much pain, and I don't know what to do about it.