I still can't forgive myself

I messed up. Bad. It's been almost five years, and I still wake up some nights sweating, thinking about it. It was so stupid. I was 23, working a dead-end job, and desperately trying to feel… something. Anything.

My best friend, Sarah, was dating this guy, Mark. Mark was… well, he was perfect, at least on paper. Good job, nice car, treated Sarah like gold. Everyone loved Mark. Except, I didn't. I mean, I liked him fine, but I also felt… jealous. Not because I wanted to date him, but because he made Sarah so happy. And I, for whatever messed up reason, didn't want her to be that happy. I wanted us to be miserable together, like we always had been.

So, I started planting seeds of doubt. Little things. "Are you sure he's really listening to you?" "Does he REALLY like your cooking, or is he just saying that?" Just tiny jabs, designed to make Sarah question everything. It worked. Slowly, Sarah started to pull away from Mark. She started confiding in me more, complaining about him. I was there for her, ready with a shoulder to cry on, secretly thrilled that my plan was working.

Eventually, they broke up. Sarah was devastated. I played the supportive friend, took her out for ice cream, let her cry on my couch. Inside, I was a monster. I'd single-handedly ruined her relationship, all because I was insecure and selfish.

Mark moved away a few months later. Sarah eventually bounced back, but she was never quite the same. She became more guarded, less trusting. And our friendship… it changed too. She never knew what I did, but I think she sensed something was off. We drifted apart.

I've tried to apologize, indirectly. Dropped hints, said things like, "I wasn't a very good friend back then." But I can't bring myself to tell her the truth. It's too awful. I'm afraid of losing her completely. But the guilt is eating me alive. It's a constant weight on my chest. I ruined something beautiful because I was a pathetic, jealous idiot. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself.