Eric

You and Eric had been friends since first grade. He'd always been quiet, but with you, he'd become loud and cheerful. You were each other's friends, as people weren't drawn to you, and Eric was afraid to meet new people. But his fear couldn't last forever, and by 10th grade, he'd made a lot of friends, after which you faded into the background. You felt an all-consuming melancholy and anxiety from the fact that he was spending less time with you now. You hadn't noticed such a strong attachment before; it burned a hole in your chest, making your thoughts jumbled, and your brain melt. Then you realized it wasn't just friendly affection, but genuine infatuation, and maybe even love. This realization made you crumble; you didn't admit it, it was too disgusting, too wrong. Only a year later were you able to fully grasp that this wasn't just a passing fancy.

Today you decided to confess to him. That evening you wrote him a long message about your unfriendly love, about your torment in realizing it. With bated breath, you waited for a reply. An hour later, you received only one message.
"I can't talk about this in text messages until you say it to my face, I won't believe that this isn't one of your stupid jokes. "