Yesterday my therapist was telling me how proud she was. Yesterday we were celebrating me finally coming to my senses about, you guessed it, a guy. It felt like I finally turned the page and detached. Also yesterday I showed up, to said guy, in the middle of the night by his bed. Why do I do this? You tell me.
So there I was, in the most stereotypical boys dorm room, waking him up. Obviously he was excited to see me, who wouldn’t be? But that’s the thing isn’t it, he is always excited to see me at night. When the sun comes back up and he returns to sober town, I fear he doesn’t like me as much. “This is the last time we will see each other,” I kept repeating. “I don’t want that, you don’t mean it,” he kept repeating. I know he doesn’t believe me, I have said this before. Yet I still end up in his arms when his schedule allows it.
The circle of self-sabotage is what I call our relationship. Yes, I said relationship because I refuse to refer to this monumental, life-changing, soul-eating experience as a ‘situationship’. I did not go through the deepest points of life to then diminish my experience by not calling it what it is, a relationship. Not a romantic relationship, not a platonic relationship (obviously), not a situationship because it has never been just a ‘situation’. It has quite literally taken over my life, is my most talked about topic, my entire family knows about it, every person that has ever talked to me knows about it. This was never a ‘situationship’, this has always been a relationship.
To continue my story time, he was excited to see me. So there we were, lying in his friend’s bed. I’m asking him what was missing, why he couldn’t see me as more than a midnight hookup for when he’s in town. Honestly, I cannot remember what his answer to this was but I think it’s safe to say it was nothing worth remembering. “This is it for us, we will never be anything more than nothing,” is obviously me trying to make him say what I want to hear. “Our story hasn’t begun yet, nothing is ending and everything is beginning,” yes he said this, (he actually really said this)! Why would I lie to a bunch of strangers? Lol. How I wish he meant what he said and how I wish I was still naive enough to believe it. Unfortunately, those words mean very little to me. Just between us girls, I’d rather have his words hurt me and make me sad, then what they do to me now; nothing. (I’m so Lana coded, right?!)
He doesn’t know it yet, but this really is the end of our story. The last couple of years, I kept giving chances, I kept having hope because I made myself believe he didn’t know what I felt. I made myself believe he did not know enough to take action. Now, the words have been spoken, my feelings have been made clear. I was honest, I told him exactly what I wanted, what I wished for us. And I woke up in the exact same reality; magical nights that I over-romanticize and disappointing, face-slapping, soul-hurting mornings/days. Nothing changed. I showed all my cards, he knows how I feel and what I hope for.
I have no more jokes, stories or little lies I want to tell him with the hope they make him fall in love with me. I have no more positions to try with the hope he cannot get enough of me. I have no more names to drop with the hope he will think I’m well connected and popular. There is nothing left for me to try. I have no more games to play.
Two years, I spent believing there was a chance for us. I told everyone that the hope I felt came from my gut. That my intuition was just sure there would be a two sided love story. We may have not felt the same, but you felt something. I just know it. I refuse to believe I am that naive and I choose to believe in my intuition. We had a storyline, but I guess another one was more important and ours got benched. I still have a lot to say. I could keep talking to you about us. Oh how I hope you will miss me. I hope you miss me so bad you cry and your friends think you’re crazy. I hope you miss me so bad you cannot even look at another woman. I hope you dream about me, I hope I haunt your mind. I hope you keep my scarf and sleep with it (this is not a Taylor Swift All too well reference, I left my actual scarf there). I hope you become attached to it. I hope it represents something very emotional for you. I curse that you feel for me what I felt for you. Though I really mean what I write, I do want to tell you one last time, I’m sorry and I so wish I could start over for us.
Wow got carried away for a moment, almost forgot im way too cool for him.
So why did I do this? Still, no idea. You tell me.
Skinny legend out
The Thoughts 