I’m sure that once I publish this, I’ll be virtually slapped by a few people that love me. They will be shaking their heads and wishing they could shake me for even writing this. They will scream in their heads, “You need to let him go! You are far past the point of moving on!!”.
But I can’t.
It’s not that easy.
For some fucked up reason that I am having trouble justifying to myself, I’d like to have you in my life. I can’t be your girlfriend. I don’t think that you fully understand what comes with having a relationship, at least a balanced one. I refuse to put myself in a position to allow you to hurt me again. I’ve got enough in my life that could potentially crush me, I don’t need to add you to that.
I would like to actually be friends. Without benefits if you will.
I’m having an all out internal war here. My brain is begging to know why. My heart is telling my brain to STFU. The only explanation I have for myself is this:
We shared something really great. We were really happy a long time ago. Parts of that happiness lurk in the dark corners of my memory and I am straining to remember them. I remember laughter. I remember smiling. It was there, and it came very easily. We just fucked it all up with the expectations, and the failure to be what we promised ourselves we were always going to be be: HONEST. We stopped being true with one another. You hid your feelings of suffocation with bitterness and blame. I hid my feelings of disappointment. But all of that lying was too much for both of us. We reached a point where there was literally, no return from.
Letting you go was the hardest thing I have ever chosen to do. Facing the fact that things felt unrepairable literally broke a part of me. Apparently that part of me is still broken if I am sitting hear with tears streaming down my face. Not for wanting you back. No. For just the pure sorrow of losing what I thought was such real love. Something that was apparently, bigger than both of us because we didn’t know how to adapt to it.
Every true relationship I’ve ever had, has had a soundtrack. Ours did. And coming across that CD I had made for us, in a stack of CDs I haven’t touched in a year, I threw it in the CD player and scrolled through the tracks. And I smiled. And the memories didn’t hurt. What bothered me was that at one point in time, we did enjoy our soundtrack. And that is gone.
That is why I took a picture of that CD and sent it to you. You didn’t respond. I’m always curious what compells you not to respond. So (like an idiot, as I’m sure some will agree) I sent you another message. I asked if you’d like to try and be friends, or both of us just stay bitter?
You’re initial response was to stay bitter.
Then you changed your mind, but made sure to clerify that we would just be friends. Like you thought I want more? I asked but you’ve still yet to respond.
I don’t know if this is going to work , us being friends. In my head, I imagine that it can. I just don’t know if you will let it. Because sometimes you really make me feel like I am a joke to you.
I’m not resting my hopes on you. I’m not holding my breath with the yearning for you to be my friend. I’m just extending my hand, hopeful that maybe we can find some of that good feeling again, without all the other stuff that complicated it so badly.