Faulty Teenage Logic

He was always attracted to her, but it never bothered me. He dumped me with the promise that we'd be together again. I guess he never really meant it, or maybe he forgot he ever said it, because he forgot about me rather quickly. It wasn't until a few months later I realized we'd never get back together. At the same time, I realized he was flirting with my best friend.

I wasn't so much hurt by the fact that she was my friend as I was by the realization that he was over me. I was foolish, romantic, and he was my first kiss. I never understood the unwritten "bros before hoes" and "chicks before dicks" rules, but I used them anyway. He and I were over, but I wasn't over that. I guess I was so desperate to stop him from being with anyone else, that I played the only card I had, the only expected reaction. So I told her she couldn't be with him.
"Why?" she asked.
"He's my ex."
"So?"
"Well, you're my friend."
"So? We really like each other, and we make each other happy."
"That's not how it works," I snarled. I was stubborn. I was so set in the idea that she was breaking the rules, that she was terrible, that she was breaking girl code and ruining our friendship, that she was the only thing standing between me and him, so I decided nobody could be happy.

I lashed out at both of them, how selfish she was, how scheming he was. I hurt. I forced her to promise me she'd forget about him. Then, pitying myself, I stopped talking to them both. But I was haunted by what she said. "We make each other happy." And how fleeting is happiness? How hard is it to find someone you could talk to? If he couldn't talk to me anymore, maybe he could talk to her. At the very least, maybe they were just happy together. Resigned, I called him.
"Listen, "I sighed, "I've thought a lot about it, and if you want to date her, you can."
"She didn't tell you? We've been dating for a week, I asked her out last monday."
"And she said yes?"
"Well, yeah."
I hung up.

I called her later, but I didn't have the heart to be angry.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," I said. I wasn't.
"Are you ok with it?"
"Yeah." Not a bit.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"Don't worry about it."

I felt betrayed and helpless. But it wasn't really ever in my control to begin with, it was always their choice. Falling asleep that night, I genuinely wished that they'd be happy together. A week later, she called me. They'd gone to the mall, and evidently, it hadn't gone well.
"I don't get it," she cried, "We just didn't click."
I sighed, and pulled back my hair with one hand, then let it fall absentmindedly around my face. For the next hour, I consoled her over our now shared ex. The phone beeped angrily with a call on hold.
He called me after she did, looking for the same comfort, and I gave it.

I'm not anything more than her now. Just an ex. Just a friend. We'd both been kissed. Written songs about. I wasn't anything special to him anymore. But I don't really regret it. A chance to be happy, even in high school, even for two weeks, is still a chance to be happy. I'm not defending or advocating anything, but if I played it over again, the only thing I'd change would be to wish them well sooner.