Words I Couldn’t Say

This is long. This is a lot of word vomit. This is how I feel right now. I didn’t edit anything out or re-read it. Sometimes I hate that my blog is so public to people that I know in real life because pushing Publish on this post would be a lot easier if it wasn’t. But I process things through writing…that’s just how I do. In the end, I’m always going to be as candid as possible here.

Throughout our entire relationship I had a hard time being open.

Maybe it’s because I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had been told you were out of my league for so long that I let those words seep into the deepest part of me.

I couldn’t give everything to you because I knew deep down that things couldn’t last. Not with me putting you so far above me.

I tried, I really did.

One day I knew I was beginning to trust you more when something exciting happened and my first thought was, “I can’t wait to tell him about this.”

As soon as those feelings came though, you started to check out.

You were always busy and you never wanted to hang out, and I knew that what I had always expected to happen was happening.

That’s why I took it so well today. I expected it, it was no surprise to me.

One of the only things that makes me mad about everything is that for you, this was just a relationship that lasted a little over a month and you don’t have that much to get over.

You started to like me over the summer, pursued that, we dated, and as quickly as all of that happened you were done.

Which is fine. If you want out, if it just wasn’t there for you, that’s ok, and you don’t need to feel bad about that.

But I liked you for two years. Two years. And I never pursued a relationship with you. I had decided being your friend was better than risking telling you my feelings and ruining the friendship we had.

You liked me for two minutes and told me, and I told you how I had always felt. That’s when you should have realized that dating you wasn’t a small thing to me. It was a big, big deal.

And you went for it.

As for everything else, I’m not mad at you. I still think you are a wonderful, wonderful guy and at this point, I don’t regret dating you.

I don’t know if I’ll post this. You may never even read it, and it’s more for me than anything. I guess in the end, I just want you to know that I did care. Do care.

I tried to hide that because I wanted to be the one that handled it well. But I don’t want you to translate that into me not caring, because I did. Do.

I’m sorry that this was the realest I ever got with you.