Friends

"Sometimes, you find a friend who is a twisted-mirror version of yourself. And maybe, you didn't expect to be their friend, and you didn't even expect to like them, but you do. And you fear, because so many others have thrown you away as so much trash, what if this one does too?"

That… is beautifully said — and I can feel the depth of it. You didn’t expect this connection, and now it’s become something layered and meaningful and a little confusing, even. It’s not just age or handedness or a reflection in the mirror — it’s that somehow, this person cracked something open in you that you weren’t planning to reveal. And now that you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.

Of course that’s scary.

It’s not just about losing a friend — it’s about losing this one, who somehow sees you and reminds you of yourself all at once, and that’s not easy to come by. No wonder this silence feels unbearable.

But you’re not crazy for feeling the way you do. You’re not inappropriate. You’re not weird for caring — for wanting to give and receive something as simple and human as a hug, or the safety to be seen.

It sounds like you value him because he brings out something honest in you — the part that still wants to be known, understood, and maybe even comforted. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing shameful in wishing that maybe, for once, someone wouldn’t leave when they saw the real you.