I return home each day feeling emotionally drained. You don't understand how much just spending a day among people actually takes out of me, especially in a place where I have to deal with the people I wish I knew where I stood with. Maybe I make things more complicated than they have to be, but maybe, just maybe I'm actually seeing them for as complex as they are. I cannot concentrate because I am too tired; all I want to do is collapse and be rendered unconscious by sleep. Although sleep takes me to dreams where all my fears are played out again, I have a comfort in knowing that I won't wake up and remember them.
On the one side there is you. You whom I have spoken endlessly about, the words colliding and running over one another in an endless cycle. And yet I could speak forever about you. Yes, repetition is boring, but it may be the only way I can get closer to you.
It's been too long. I loved you once, now we don't speak. I want to reconcile, but I can't because I don't want to love you again, even though I never really stopped. I want to embrace you for who you are, but I know that it just may well be impossible. You changed me, and I cannot say that for the most part it was for the better. I was a better person before I fell for you.
I don't blame you, but the fault is not entirely mine either. Nowadays I don't know what I want from you anymore. It's too hard to be friends, and most likely impossible to be lovers; how should I know, we never tried the latter. Came dangerously close perhaps, but never tried.
But I miss you like there's a hole inside of me, carved to fit you perfectly. None but you shall ever fit it. Just know that. The saddest part is, we are most likely going to finish things this week without having made up, because neither of us is brave enough, nor perhaps even wants it enough to try. It's too confusing, and it hurts too much.
I don't know how you feel. In fact, I barely know you. It's depressing, we spent so long together, and now we're almost complete strangers. True, if we were to meet we would not have become friends, but that would be because we didn't already have a history like we do now.
Damn it. Do you see? My confusion comes across here too. Perhaps what we really need is a time of intense intimacy, where we give ourselves to the other completely, only for that short time. Then we may get a sense of where we stand, of what we could have, what we gave up, and finally be able to move on. Because god knows that nothing else is working. Treating you like you don't exist hurts more than it heals.
And then there's you. What to say about you? Where to begin? Our relationship seems so simple on the surface, but I have the feeling that there is something as yet hidden, lurking beneath. I have the feeling that there are things you really don't want to tell. I should respect that, I know that you will do things all in your own time, but I'm far too impatient these days.
You weren't always in my life, but now that you are, you play such a big role that it's disconcerting. I'll admit that there's something disarming about you, something that made me pause and think for a moment, all those months ago, which I then dismissed. I wasn't really ready to fall for you. I'd only just really met you, was only just getting to know you. That something returned in a dream, and shook me to my core. I hadn't expected that. I dismissed it again, and it didn't return, mostly because somewhere along the way, I was distracted by, then fell for someone else. But now they're fading out of my life; and what I'd pushed aside all that time ago is slowly fading back into view. I'd forgotten, but you said something and made me think about it all over again.
This time it comes with something a little different. This time, if I'm to listen to intuition, it seems you may have feelings for me. Problem is, you haven't said anything directly. That's too bad. I can't be sure from subtle implications and body language and what I think is flirting. Then again, perhaps I'm just assuming everything is an implication, seeing as I missed every implication the first time around with the other person. Maybe I'm just hearing my intuition wrong. I won't know until you tell me.
It's a bit of a problem you see, because I promised I wouldn't fall for you. But that promise is slipping. It was slipping long before I'd even made it, long before I even fell for that other person, because you must understand, although the feelings for you got pushed to the side, they never went away. Now they're just coming to the fore again, this time with a vengeance. Breaking a promise isn't easy; breaking a promise you wish you hadn't made is even harder.
Right now what I want from you is the truth about how you feel, so I know where we stand. If there is something in those hugs, those touches, those words, then you need to tell me. The fact you got quieter when I gently mocked you for sounding like you were trying to convince yourself that you had no feelings for me implied the complete opposite of what you were saying. I understand, I do. This is fear and longing all rolled into the one. The only cure is for one to be satisfied. But I can't help you if you won't tell me anything.
Because if it so happened that my intuition is right I would no longer care about breaking that promise. In fact I would do it willingly.
What I need is someone I can crumble in front of. This is all too much and I can't be strong anymore, wanting nothing more than to crawl up into the corner of a darkened room and cry until all the worries have disappeared. I need someone to come and save me, from them, from the world, from myself. I know I'm only likely to find another broken soul like me, but then at least perhaps we can pull through it together. Nothing is worse than being alone. It is the greatest tragedy of human existence that what we fear most is what always comes to pass.
Sometimes I think that the world would be a much better place if we did not have the disposition to fall in love. There would be fewer people who wanted to have a truck run over them because they could not find any other cure.