Toujours l'amour

I know you'll always love her. I'm sitting at your desk, where you told me I could go sit and do my homework, looking down at a picture of her on the table. You probably forgot it was there. She's beautiful. It's okay that you still love her. I mean, not that I have the right to tell you if it's okay or not, but just so you know it doesn't bother me. Sometimes there's just that person that hits you like a freight train. Sometimes when they go away, they never really go away.

She's beautiful. She looks so distant. You've told me quite a bit about the two of you, how it was, and how it ended. I know you loved her probably more than you've ever loved anything in your life. It sounds like she could be pretty cold, and pretty far away. And the thing is... I'm nothing like that. If that's what you want, you'll probably never love me back the way that I love you. I don't want somebody to be totally crazy about me, running around after me, doing everything for me, just to look down my nose (metaphorically) and perhaps throw them the occasional bone, or pat them on the head. I don't need that. I don't need to keep my distance to make you always want more. The thing is... I know that works. Some people do it on purpose, and some people, that's just the way they are. I think she was probably the latter of the two.

With you, I don't know... you've told me quite a bit about your past. It seems like you were always pretty shy, and it seems like maybe you weren't praised enough for the things that you do. Like maybe you weren't given enough credit. Like maybe you weren't appreciated enough, or at least shown that you were appreciated enough. And I think about that quite a bit. I don't want to reinforce those ideas you have about yourself. And maybe the way I treat you is less attractive, less mysterious, less deliciously painful, and those are the sort of things that draw you in. I know that. I know all of that. And I could do all of that to get you to feel that way about me. I could analyze you and manipulate you to get you to feel that way back. See... my gift is understanding people. What their fears are. What their insecurities are, what they struggle with. What makes them happy. What makes them afraid. What makes them fall in love. That's my gift. I know those things about people. I know things I shouldn't know about people. But I am never going to do that. I am never going to use what I know about you to make you love me.

All that doing that would do would trap you in another codependent relationship where you thought that you were happy while really just chasing, running yourself ragged, for one kind word, one bit of approval, one nice gesture. Waiting with bated breath for the next one to come, whenever that would be. I don't want to make and then keep you dependent on me. I want you to be happy. So maybe, when you do something well, or you do something sweet for me, or anything like that, and I smile without reserve, and I praise you, and I thank you again and again, and I tell you that you did really well or I tell you that that was very sweet, and that I appreciate it... maybe that won't get you to love me. Because you want someone that holds back, that's mysterious, that you just don't understand. Maybe because you never understood why you weren't appreciated as a kid, and that's the kind of relationship with someone you can understand. But you know what? If that's true, I don't care if you never love me the way I love you. I don't care. I know you care about me, and that's good enough. All I want is to try, in every way I can, to reinforce to you the idea that you are good enough, and you are an incredibly special, kind-hearted person, and that you are smart, and talented, and that every kind thing you do for me, every time you tuck my feet in at night so I won't get cold, or bring me coffee in bed, or smile at me the way you do sometimes, or pick me up when I get stranded, every time you do that, it warms my heart right up. It makes me so happy. And I appreciate every kind thing that you do. I notice and I appreciate it. I think you are a wonderful human being. Yeah, you fuck up. So does everyone. But I truly think you are a wonderful person, and I am proud of you, and I appreciate you. Fuck games. You can never, ever, ever love me, and I will be so happy with that if you start to believe even a little bit how good you are.

Falling.

You know what? I'm not sure. I'm not sure at all. But I know that this makes me hurt inside and as much as I want to come up with another solution to dealing with this, a solution besides just not seeing you for a long time, I don't know what else to do. Because I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of loving you when you don't love me back. I'm tired of needing you when I can't keep you, when I can't have you. And as much as it's going to suck I know that time is the only thing that will heal that. I need to feel like I'm at least working towards something; like I'm at least making progress instead of continuing to fall harder and harder for you.

How It Ends (And the shredding cardiac sound that accompanied those keystrokes)

I am literally breaking down right now and the only one I want to see is you.

I want to go to my best friend and just crumple and cry my heart out because I'm never going to see the man I love again.

But I can't do that. Because they're the same person.

I can't tell you how hurt I am. I can't tell you how I feel. I got used to talking about how I feel with you. And now, there's nowhere to put the words. I just need to talk to you so badly and I can't anymore. You disappeared so suddenly. It's like you never even existed. It's like you never cared at all. Not even a little.

You promised me. You stupid fucking fucker, you PROMISED ME. AND I FUCKING BELIEVED YOU. I FUCKING BELIEVED EVERY WORD. I DON'T FUCKING BELIEVE PEOPLE AND I BELIEVED EVERY GODDAMN WORD YOU SAID TO ME. I don't know why. I don't know why you were different like that. But you were. You said "the only way you're going to get rid of me is if you force me out of your life."

And I'm fucking breaking down right now. I need you so badly right now. I need my Ben. I need my friend. I fucking need you to be here for me right now. I never fucking ask you for anything. I do everything I can think of for you, and I never fucking ask you for anything. I need you to fucking be here for me right now. I'm breaking the fuck down. You promised. You fucking promised. You promised. But you're still gone.

Static

You were my heart. And I had to rip it out of my chest, to be rid of you.

Love, and love

You're so afraid.

You've been broken so badly, and you weren't set properly before you healed.

I can see that more clearly now than ever.

Maybe you'll never be able to trust.

Maybe I'm wasting my time.

Maybe I need to get over my Jesus complex.

Stop thinking I can save people.

Or even help. Even a little.



Maybe words mean nothing to you.

But you close your eyes to these actions.

So maybe I don't stand a chance.

You told me already. I should have believed you, too.



You might never be able to trust.

You might give in to your fears all the way, some day.

But let me tell you something, not so secret

That's no way to live a life



You don't want to be hurt anymore?

You don't want to be scared?

You don't want to worry?

Stop fighting. Stop picking off the scab.

Start loving yourself.



But you know what?

I don't believe that no-one can love you until you learn to love yourself.

I believe sometimes, in the middle of the darkest of nights,

It takes someone to smile at you

To tell you "I think you are great"

To tell you "I love you so much"

For you to start seeing yourself.

To start believing in yourself.

And so I will not be ashamed to say the words.

I love you.

I will never be ashamed.

The thoughts we left behind

I can see the smile on your face as clearly as if there was a time when you'd looked at me that way.

I can hear the words in your voice as clearly as if there was a time you'd spoken them to me.

I can feel it.

And I wonder if I'm remembering something that hasn't happened, or if I'm trying violently to forget something that happened to another me, in a place a lot like this one.

That's what I mean

It's different how I love you. I told you that I did, but I didn't tell you how it felt this time. It's different. I don't feel that giddy, expectant, not-really-knowing-someone-but-still-willing-to-jump-in-front-of-a-bullet-for-them feeling. Not in the way that I'm used to. I kind of feel now that when you start feeling that way about someone you stop really getting to know them and start just kind of getting high on your feelings and rolling around not getting anywhere. I don't just sit around thinking of what can I do to make you happy, what little present can I get you that will make your life easier, what can I cook for you, what can I do. I always do stuff like that but I don't think you like it when I do. You don't like it when I do stuff for you. But I don't do stuff just because of some backwards, misplaced feelings of questionable origin. I don't know how to explain what it means to me when I say I love you. I'll try.

Two nights ago I was laying in bed behind you; you were asleep facing the wall, curled up. I couldn't sleep. I opened my eyes and looked at you. I looked at how your shoulders look big when you're laying down. I looked at your grey jacket covering your arms. Over your shoulder, that was moving up and down slightly as you breathed, I saw your untidy black hair sticking out in tufts in the back against your dresser.  And I guess I can't really explain the feeling I felt. It wasn't giddy, or reckless, or flighty, or butterfly-y. It was just there. I thought: I want to know you. I want to breathe out when you breathe in. I want to be there for you. I want to tuck you in if you get cold. I saw the soft way your spine curved and I wanted to run my hand up it lightly, and then smooth the fabric back down. I thought: you matter to me. Not because of some all-encompassing, blinding feeling, but because you really do, honestly matter to me. I care about you greatly. I thought: I want you to believe in yourself. I thought: I believe in you. I thought: you're beautiful. I moved over closer and wrapped an arm around you, pulling myself into you. I buried my face into your back, into the back of your jacket. I breathed you in. I felt my body fill with feelings of peace, contentedness, happiness, the desire to protect, to care for, to cherish. I felt at peace. Not because I have some weird idea of the two of us capering through a field of daisies with hearts in our eyes. Not because I have you on some sort of pedestal. Because I see you when I look at you. I see all of it, this time. Not just the good parts. I see all of it. And all of it is what makes me feel this way. That's what I mean when I say I love you.

Picking up the pieces

What am I doing? Is this enough, or is it just better than nothing? Once again I find myself doing something stupid. Once again I find myself doing something that I know is causing pain, and will probably cause more, because I'm too afraid of what I'll lose in the present moment. I'm too paralyzed to prepare for the future. I am. I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I'm alone.

Sometimes I think to myself that I'm growing, I'm maturing, I'm gaining experience. Sometimes I think that I'm more in control of myself and my emotions than I used to be. And then other times, out of the thin blue sky when I least expect it, I feel my heart sink. I feel the weight of Atlas when I had thought I was in the clouds. It's almost as if I keep myself so busy that I don't realize that I'm sad. That I don't realize this is hurting me. And sometimes when my guard is down and I'm not paying attention, my heart throws it at me all at once in a desperate attempt to get me to listen.

Sometimes I think I haven't gotten better at controlling my feelings, I've just gotten better at fooling myself.

How do I feel about you still? I don't know sometimes. I try to act casual. I try to act natural. I try to just act like a friend. I try so hard that I believe myself sometimes. But then other times when I'm alone and I think of you the sadness hits me so hard that it's like a steel mallet to my chest. As always, I stuff that feeling away. I don't even think about what it means. I tell myself there's no reason for the feeling, and that I'm just weird or crazy or it must be around that time of the month. I don't allow those feelings any validation. But what if there is a reason for them? What if they're real? What if I'm not over it? Maybe it's just stewing inside of me, maybe it's fermenting, maybe it's growing, secretly, maybe it's rotting.

I don't know. I'm afraid to let it out, because I need it to go away. But I'm also afraid to keep stuffing it inside, because I might be doing damage that I don't even know about. I'm so good at pretending I'm okay, that everything's fine, that I'm doing fine, that sometimes I even believe myself. That's actually my whole game: pretending so hard that I believe it. That is my whole game. That's how I keep myself okay in bad situations. But the thing is.... I might be making myself pay for it down the road. It might be that every time I do that, I'm just taking some mess and throwing it in the closet, or sweeping it under the rug, and I can't see it anymore so I think that it's gone, but maybe it's actually collecting rot and maggots and rats and getting filthier and filthier in the closet and under the rug. Maybe it doesn't go away when I pretend I'm fine. Maybe it just gets uglier out of sight, and maybe it continues to hurt me more and more, and I don't even realize it.

Maybe not. I don't know.

I don't know how to talk to you about it. I just wanted so badly for things to go back to normal between us. And I feel like quite a bit of time has passed now since that night that I told you I loved you. And I feel like the more time can pass without me acting like I love you or mentioning it again, the more comfortable it will be for us to hang out. I know you don't want me to feel this way, and I don't know how to deal with it besides to talk to you about it but at the same time I feel like maybe you think I'm over it, or mostly over it, and I know you want to think that and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable so I kind of feel like if I can just keep up not mentioning it or acting like it then I won't lose you. And I know you said you're not going anywhere but to me going anywhere isn't a physical place, it's a state of mind. It's a place in your heart. You can be right next to me and be universes away. I know. I've felt it. And I don't want that.

But I'll never be able to be truly close to you if I can't talk to you.

I guess you don't want to be "truly close" anyway. You just want something casual until you find the person you want to spend your life with, or so you said. Not in exactly those words, but that's basically what it is and we both know it. I just don't understand. You get upset with me for not talking to you sometimes, or for being bad at communicating about how I feel. But the thing is... why do you want me to be good at communicating about how I feel? If I were to communicate all those things, I would be telling you about how I feel not just about myself and my life but about you. And you don't want to hear that. And if you do want to hear that, then how can you say you just want something casual until you meet somebody else? That doesn't add up. When I trust somebody enough to completely open up to them, it's because I'm invested in them. It's because I'm trying to build something with them, trying to work towards something with them. And why would you want to do all that with somebody that's basically a placeholder for your vague, blurry future wife? I feel like that would just be wasting my time.

Besides that, it's already hard enough for me to have a real conversation with someone. It's possible, but it's extremely rare. You've already told me you and I are not going to happen. If I were suddenly able to do that with you, it would create, at least for me, an undeniable connection between us that is so rare for me and so important to me. I couldn't stand to have that with you, to open myself up and let down all of those walls, knowing that there was no chance. Knowing where the finish line was. Do you understand that? I'm not saying I can't open up to someone unless I know we're going to get married and have a million babies and a dog; not at all. Not knowing is half the fun. What I'm saying is that when there is a clear end line, when there is a clear marker that says "this will not go any farther than this line here in the sand between us," I can't do that. I can't let down all the walls I've spent my whole life building, establish a connection with someone and a trust with someone that I've never really had before, make myself that vulnerable, and everything, knowing with 100% certainty that you were never going to choose me. That we would never make it past the "keeping each other company, friends, having someone to make you feel less lonely while you pass the time until the right person comes along" stage. You can't ask me to do that. Not when I feel this way about you. You cannot ask me to do that. Because the second I let those walls down and I let you in and I trusted you like that, which I've never really been able to do before but for some reason I feel like with you, I could, the second I did all of that... I would just think of you as mine. You would be mine and I would be yours in my head, and that would just be the way it was. I would just think of you as my person. My one person. That one person that people find sometimes that they don't ever let go. And then eventually some girl would come along as you'd fall in love with her and I don't think I would ever finish picking up the pieces of my heart.