Hello you, yes you. You know who you are.
You know who you are because we had been in love once. We fell quickly, we got lost in the world we had created that seemed to exist only when it was you and I. One day, you thought we had it all right, you could see the future with us. Until I left in what seemed like a blink of an eye decision, and left you curious about just what it is that you did to leave you feeling this way with an unfair and lengthy ending. The ever-flowing wonder of what-could-bes and what-ifs, the curiosity of why, the desire to get closure but never feeling like it was closed enough to ask.
I never realized at the time what I was doing. But that doesn’t excuse it.
Over-infatuated with my own self discovery in a place so far away, attempting to find my ground and convince myself that you were not the person that I was supposed to have. Believing that my self-indulgent darknesses would ruin your beautiful picture of who I was, I would never be able to admit my failures and desires to you. I did not believe that a person could love somebody enough to see past it all.
No matter how badly I wanted love, I refused to believe that it was deserved. My inability to stay still, my lack of willingness to stay for love, the feeling of dread and regret I feel every time I look at “what if I did choose you first and foremost?”… It all circumferences the same ideal that I was never ready to put somebody before myself. I had hardly been capable of putting myself before myself already.
You’re probably happy with someone now, far away from my mundane form of love. You deserve that. I was never trying to make you hurt, I always wanted the best for you and just happened to show it in the worst of ways. Bipolar love, one that confuses the hell out of a person. Better that than for us to continue the inevitable cycle that we continuously looped on every opportunity we had. Run, pull, jump, run, pull it back in again… I don’t blame you for giving that up, but I am still angry about it. Why? Well, I was never capable of letting go in the first place. But you knew that. And just how was it fair of me to ask that you sit and wait until I finish riffling through my pile of misery you ask? I can assure you that it is with unequivocal belief that it is because I knew that no person will amass to the love that we shared. Whether that made it worthwhile or toxic is another topic.
With nothing exciting to look forward to in isolation these last few months I had spent a lot of time focusing on my past. Learning the ins and outs about who I have been, who I have become, and the pattern that continuously flows throughout all of these drastic angles of my character. I am a serial lover and I am a serial runner; I am terrified of the idea of forever because I have never been capable of choosing. I have been in survivor mode for a decade, I do not comprehend how to stop, I do not have the time to “handle” my traumas, I do not have the capacity to be patient and kind under stress. I run on surface level fumes just thick enough to push me through to the next station before I leave again. I desperately wish for the ability to have that depth, and when I give myself the opportunity, it eminently comes out. Only for myself to retract it and run off again.
I am learning. Slowly. Painfully. Regretfully. I too would like answers.
Perhaps one day you may be willing to hear me out and receive that closure that you so desperately longed for so long ago, and an apology that you likely deserve.
Neesh Media 