I’m gonna write a post at least once a day. If I can’t think of something to write I’m going to type out an angsty, cryptic piece of writing from one of my diaries. Which will force me to write since I’m terrified of those diaries.
To kick it off/kick me in the ass here is a letter I wrote and never sent. Its undated but it’s from my 2005 diary so I’m pretty sure I know what its about. The truly amazing thing, and also heartbreaking, is that there are so many parts of this that echo. Never gonna learn…. So, without too much more stalling I’m going put this out there. I haven’t edited at all except to make some breaks in text so that its easier to read, usually at the “And” because that seems to mean a break in thought.
There are some many things we should have done. The what ifs are killing me.
And I can’t even cry about it. If I could cry I think it would help. But like a surface cut that will bleed and bleed and a deep cut that will squeeze out only a few drops, I feel like I have been cut in half. And its hard to think of something, anything to say.
And I can talk to no one because I don’t want their sympathy and I’m trying to be strong.
And I can’t talk to you because it’s not your problem anymore.
And I’m still in shock because what we had was so beautiful and lasting and we ruined it with our egos and our age and our stupid, young, self-centred mistakes that we didn’t know how to deal with.
And everything makes perfect sense and none at all. I hate being rational and mature and down to earth. All I wanted was passion and love and it flickered on often enough that I had hope and it flickered off often enough that I felt abandoned. And I know that I clung to you too much but you know that you pushed me away too much. You were confused by what you were feeling, whether you wanted me or not. We scared you. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore but I did. I fought for what I wanted only you can’t fight oncoming traffic and you can’t make people change their minds when it comes to religion and politics and especially love. I just wanted you to give me what I gave you, which was me because that’s how I do relationships. I give people me and hope that they will appreciate me. I’m not good at protecting myself so I let you do it, only you were terrible at it because you protected me from too much, including yourself. Which was bedside the point. We needed to be one bubble and instead I was your wagon being pulled along behind you, there but barely noticed, when I wanted to be beside you, equal with you.
And my life is on pause, as it often is with you, because I can’t move back and I don’t have the courage to move forward.
And I can’t sleep at night and when I do I sleep so deeply so that I don’t have to feel the reality of having lost my best friend, my lover, my confidant, my other half. You’ll move on quickly because that’s what you do and you forgetting about me, about us, will hurt like crazy and you loving someone else will be unforgivable. Because I am cool, and I am smart, and easy going, and spontaneous, and down to earth and most of all I loved you like I don’t know if I will ever again and you’ll miss out on that.
And I will move on too and maybe we’ll stay in touch and maybe we’ll be friends, and maybe we’ll meet up again and everything will be fine between us, normal between us and so different between us. But I will always know what we had and how special it was and how we managed to fuck it all up while being completely rational and level headed about it.
And I will always know, from now on, that love isn’t actually enough and that you stopped loving me way before I stopped loving you and that I will love you forever.
And I will always hate you for that and for letting me chase you when you had no intention of ever chasing me. How you let me love you so much that I followed you around, around the fucking world and how I don’t regret it but how I regret what we lost.
And how we tried too hard in all the wrong directions and not hard enough in all the right ones. We finally had it right when it was all over, when we were friends again and had let go of all the expectations. That’s how it should have been all along. I will always remember that.
And don’t blame it on me being a child of divorce because that’s only partially true.
And we both know that we never fit into categories. Maybe we tried too hard to fit into categories. Especially each other’s when we were not dealing with any of it. I don’t miss us the way we were but I do miss us and I’m not heartbroken but I am shattered and I am and will be fine but I don’t know if that’s what I want. What I do know is that I miss you and I love you and I wish that none of this was true because then it wouldn’t matter but unfortunately it matters so so much.