Vent

I find it amazing that I want to be around you so much, and yet I’m cognizant of the fact that you don’t feel the same. I want to reach out. Touch. Hold. Spend time with. But for what? I can’t help but see you as a reminder of my shortcomings. As a woman. Friend. Lover. Whatever. And you….hmmm….you are not capable of being what I want. Right? At least that’s what you’ve said. So, I’m torn between this inescapable conundrum of avoiding and yearning. Paradoxically, loving and hating the way I feel around you – about you. Struggling to maintain my façade. My game face as it were. Not showing the pain when your name comes up. Not showing the irrational jealousy that consumes me when I see you with another woman. Laughing. Touching. Hugging. Talking. Anything I’m no longer privy to. I definitely didn’t know it would be this hard. This difficult. Seeing you hurts. It reminds me of what we once had and what will never be. I have to let go. But it’s difficult. Difficult because you were my best friend of sorts. I have so many stories to share, things to laugh at, issues to discuss. But you’re not here. You said you would be. Said it’s on me. But I don’t think you’re capable of it either. I miss your touch. I want you to hold me while I cry about what a jerk you are. Want you to comfort me while I rant about how much you hurt me. But I don’t want to be that girl. And I don’t want to be so consumed with myself that I over burden you. You who have your own issues. And so I’m torn. Constantly fighting myself. Questioning myself. Wondering whether my underlying reasons are sound or just completely selfish.

I’m sorry about our friendship. Sorry that it’s gone. Sorry that I don’t completely regret what happened. Sorry that I can’t get over you that quickly. Sorry that I’m hurting. But most of all I’m sorry that it’s over.