Being without you is hard. I feel empty, and also heavy. I feel like my inner scaffolding is gone and I never knew what dense material I was made of and now it is threatening to crash in on itself. It is hard to breathe, and hard to get through the day without telling at least three people that I am sad. I am just so sad.
My parents were talking about older relatives at the dinner table tonight. I remembered a story you told me about “your old man” when he was little. I liked hearing about your parents and your siblings. I assumed that one day I would meet all of them, and that one day they would be my family, too.
I think I have some sort of emotional fever going on, because I keep going from hot to cold and back again. The cold is unbearable, and the hot is always accompanied by embarrassment, so I know people can see it in my face. My cheeks always betrayed me that way.
It hurts without you. I would say I didn’t realize how much of both my current and future life I had built around you, but I did. I just didn’t consider it much. I simply kept building, precisely layering each brick of my heart and our future.
You are my best friend. You tell me the same thing, and you told me when I left on Saturday that we would still be friends, still hang out, still do things. I know you said you would never lie to me, but it feels like it’s taking forever for you to want to make plans with me, even though it’s only been two days.
It was hard to leave your apartment that afternoon. If I hadn’t had to babysit, doubtless I would have stayed. If I hadn’t had to babysit, I probably would have tried to get you to say I could stay over that night, too. I am a firm believer in leaving the room when an argument is stupid and never leaving the room when a relationship might be dying.
It feels like more than the relationship is dying. It feels like I’m dying. Me being wrong about where this was going is making me question everything. I was so sure of where I stood with you. What else did I take for granted that I’m wrong about? What other relationships do I engage in that are ticking time bombs? Who else is going through the motions with me, afraid to hurt me by telling me they can’t be what I want them to be?
You said you needed time alone to get your shit together. I respect that, I really do. I know that I’m being incredibly selfish by so insistently wanting you back. I’m trying to tamp it down, I really am. I know you don’t believe me. I wish that I could help you get your shit together. You helped me so much, it only seems fair. But now I feel like I’m stuck on a jetty in high tide. I kept moving along, thinking we were in this together, and now you’re waving at me from the shore, miles and miles away.
I feel useless. Like I said, I was so sure of my use to you. What else am I wrong about? It is driving my crazy that you really do need to hang out less and talk less. You need time alone - who knew you had to actually be alone? I know, I’m just having trouble accepting it.
I keep lashing out at you when we hang out. I’m sorry. I know it’s petty and selfish, but part of me wants you to be in as much pain as I am, and I want to see it. I want to see your face reflect the way I feel.
You tell me that, if it makes me feel any better, I’ll move on. You even think I might move on quickly. You promise me that “when” this happens, it will hurt you. I tell you that hopefully there is that crucial bit of overlap, where I think I’ve moved on but I haven’t, and it hurts you and you tell me. If this moment exists, we will be together. I know that this is basically the plot of half the romantic comedies out there, but whatever. I make you pinky promise me that when your shit is together, you will tell me. I tell you I know that it won’t be for a long time, but you need to promise me anyway. I think that even if I have “moved on,” I will always carry a torch for you. I think that I won’t be able to get engaged or married without checking with you in some way first. If we are not together, I need to give you every possible chance to change that.
I am sad that I am eating dinner at home tomorrow. I should be eating with you, on your couch, watching mindless TV.
I am sad that I am going home after work tomorrow. I should be going to the beach, to read in a pavilion until you get out of work.
I texted you today about something that I forgot isn’t your problem right now. You were nice about it, but when I remembered that it’s probably not super appropriate to talk to a “friend” about scary body things, I was sad. I want it to be ok to talk to you about anything and everything.
Sometimes I wish I never met you.
“I’d like to buy you dinner and get to know you better,” you said.
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” I said.
What I should have said was no. I should have been a bit less optimistic about the outcome of talking to people who were “mutual likes.” I should have somehow known that this would happen.
That’s just me being angry. I would probably do the exact same thing, even if I knew the amount of pain I’d be in. Nobody is perfect, but your imperfection is beautiful to me. I want to keep it for myself and watch it grow and bloom every day for the rest of my life.
I miss you. I miss us.
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