Don’t Eat My Chicken Nuggets
Welcome to our column written by Managing Editor Caitlyn Araña, called Catching Up With Caitlyn. Through letters, she addresses the trials and tribulations that come with learning and growing as a 20-something. Tune in for your weekly dose of drama. Love, work, relationships, health… Nothing is off limits here.
Dear Catherine*,
I was the other woman. Now, before I become a pariah for breaking every single rule of girl code… please remember: you ate my chicken nuggets. Okay, let’s take it back for a second.
I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I dated your boyfriend Ben* for a little bit. Okay, well maybe not dated. But something was happening. As you know, we were best friends. We told each other things that we, for some reason, couldn’t tell the people we loved (i.e. you and my almost-boyfriend at the time). He didn’t tell you that he couldn’t talk to you. He told me. He didn’t tell you that he couldn’t trust you. He told me.
Okay, yes, I do feel a little bad about it. I mean, I never wanted to hurt you, and I never thought that I was the person to do something like that. But then it happened, and it was like every single time I was watching myself do something that I already knew was wrong. It was truly an out of body experience. I didn’t know what to do.
Should I stop? Yes!
Should I lose my best friend? Maybe.
These thoughts ran through my mind frequently. Though, I found myself coming back to him over and over and over again. Partially, I think it was because he understood me. I think it was because he understood my thoughts before I’d think them and my words before I’d say them. We were able to joke around and tease each other in a healthy way. We were us in a way that you wanted to be with him, and that’s what truly killed me.
One day, you asked to meet me in the bathroom. I’m going to be honest. I thought you figured it out and that you were going to fight me right then and there in the third-floor east-wing bathroom. I didn’t even think about the time you consensually ate my food but then proceeded to hand it all out nonconsensually. You didn’t fight me, though. Instead, you cried and asked me why he talked to me more than you. You asked me how you could get him to speak to you. I felt for you because you didn’t fully want to admit that your relationship had, in fact, been over two months prior to this. Yes, you two still had the labels, but you two weren’t the couple you wanted to be. You two weren’t together. You were just trying to preserve the idea of something.
So, I told you that I’d talk to him, but I didn’t want to be put in the middle of it. Ironic, I know. And I did talk to him. I told him that he had to tell you how he felt. He needed to tell you that he felt like he needed to hide things from you and that he felt like he couldn’t trust you. After all, I wanted to be the person who was in over her head. I wanted to feel wrong about all the feelings I had. Trust me. I was becoming someone who I didn’t want to be.
But it wasn’t my decision to make. It was his. Sure, we could’ve stopped seeing each other and just remained best friends, but would he have still kept secrets from you? Would he have still lied to you? Yes. That’s not something I could’ve stopped.
I just never felt like I had to apologize because the feelings were real. A lot of the time, when you see a love triangle of sorts, the third person gets all of the benefits and none of the love. But I think that because we were best friends before anything else, this changed the game. It made it less messy and more clear. To him, you were controlling. To him, I seemed less constricting. But you loved him for a lot longer than I did. And that, I do have to admit. You loved him longer.
So, I’m sorry for hurting you or expediting the inevitable. But I’m not sorry for experiencing something great. Because what we had was great. To be with someone who makes you feel comfortable in your skin and loved, to be with someone who understands the way you think… to love someone like that… now, that’s a feeling that’s unmatched. I’ve only ever had that feeling one other time in my life.
I guess, with this half-baked apology, I’m also kind of saying thank you. You did what many females aren’t quick to do. You shaped him into a man for the next woman. You didn’t mold him into the person you wanted him to be. You molded him into the person for me.
And even though neither of us ended up with him, it’s something that we both learned from and grew from. I can 100% say that I am not that person anymore the same way that you’re not. Watching you now, in a committed relationship, I’m happy for you. You look happy. I hope you’re happy.
Only Love,
Caitlyn Mae
*Names have been changed to maintain integrity.