IB.
I found a way back to try something again. It was fireworks. Feels like it’s magical and fun. It was one of those instantaneous connections, the kind that movies are made of. That’s how it was in my head, at least.
Long conversations, sleepless nights, physical connections, sweet, silly jokes, random things, fears, regrets, pain, and honesty. We are each other’s daily diaries.
I found that I didn’t have to play games, that I could be completely open with him. I came to the point where I decided, why not give it a shot this time.
I asked him whether we were working towards anything more substantial, and although he admitted that he might have feelings for me, he was afraid that things might not work for us in the end (future).
It’s stung, yet how could I let go of someone who made me feel this way? The highs were so high. I believed he cared for me on some level.
We tiptoed around a connection that stemmed from something real, yet based on addiction and longing. It was a dangerous cycle of feeling broken when he left.
Daily updates became occasional. A happy conversation turned into a silent one. I felt myself shatter and become prickly towards him when we saw each other again, unwilling to provoke my discontent, since it came at the risk of one of us finally walking away.
There was no drama of hurtful words, but we can both feel the pain—he had not lied to me and we hadn’t been anything but upfront about how we felt or what we wanted. We just weren’t on the same page.
There was no way anything was going to happen, because there was no space for us, either for our lives, for it.
The only option was to walk away.
I learned some important lessons, however.
ᴹᵞ ᴰᴬᴵᴸᵞ ᴮᴸᴬᴴ 💭 