I lied to my best friend. For years.

Okay, this is…hard. I'm writing this because I can't keep it inside anymore. It's eating me alive. We’re talking about Liam. Liam is…was…my best friend. Since, like, kindergarten. We did everything together. Shared secrets, stupid childhood dreams, everything. He was always the golden boy, though. Good at sports, got the girls, just… effortlessly charming. Me? I was the funny sidekick. Always in his shadow, even though he never made me feel that way on purpose.

Then college happened. We went to different schools, but promised to stay in touch. We did, at first. Then, things started changing. He met Sarah. And he was head over heels. He’d call me, gushing about her, every little detail. And I’d listen, pretending to be happy for him. But inside… I was jealous. So freaking jealous. I'd had a crush on Liam since forever. I never said anything, because, well, he was Liam. And I was me.

Then he asked me for advice. About Sarah. About whether he should propose. And I… I lied. I told him she wasn’t the one. That she was too ambitious, that she wouldn’t fit into his life long-term. Stupid, awful things. I played on his doubts, twisted things she’d said. I told him I could see it, that he was settling. He listened. He didn’t propose. They broke up a few months later.

He was devastated. And I was there for him. The supportive friend. The one who “knew” she wasn’t right for him. It was disgusting. He eventually met someone else, got married, had kids. He seems happy. And Sarah? She's doing amazing things with her life. Traveling the world, running her own business. Exactly the ambitious person I said she wasn’t.

I’ve lived with this guilt for fifteen years. Fifteen years of knowing I messed up his life, maybe even hers, because I couldn’t handle my own stupid feelings. I see him a couple times a year, at holidays. We laugh, we reminisce. And I smile. And inside, I’m screaming. I want to tell him the truth. But I’m terrified. What if he hates me? What if he never speaks to me again? I don’t know what to do. I just needed to say it, to get it out there. Maybe then I can start to forgive myself. Or at least try to.