Hello, I miss you quite terribly


Are you up?

I’m sorry to bother you, it’s just that I can’t stop thinking about you. Not you, necessarily, but the idea of you implanted in my brain. I unfollowed you on social media but we still always see, don’t we? I see your updates and stare at pictures of the person I knew. Or at least wanted to know.

The further away, the more I notice. The more I realize. The more I’m sure of.

The way I see it, there are two alternatives. Either you really did like me and something happened that changed everything or you were just playing me all along. If it’s the latter, you wouldn’t be the first, but you were certainly the best.

If it’s the former, I’m left to wonder why.

When I see you or places that remind me of you, memories flash through interrupting my regular thought process. Sometimes it’s just the feeling of humiliation when I realized it had happened again, another guy who didn’t actually want me.

Sometimes they are intimate moments that make me blush.

Sometimes they are butterflies from every message received when it seemed like you felt it too.

Most painfully, sometimes they are the small moments of near perfection that haunt me. The brief moments when I felt safe and warm with you. When it felt like after years of being by myself, I had someone else to add to the equation.

I know you lied to me. I know it was convenient for you. I know something changed. I just wish I knew what it was. I’m left feeling like a fool, you see, because this mess isn’t something new to me.

In a way I’ve always been a secret with guys. Never have I had the one who wants to take me to public places or share photos on social media. No, I always have the guys who come over late and maybe we talk but they aren’t really there for me. I don’t know why I fell so easily into this role or let it continue relationship after relationship. All I know is that I did and I let you do it too.

I can’t fault you too much for keeping me in the dark. I made it easy for you. I didn’t demand you treat me better. To be brutally honest, I was so desperate to make you stay I did whatever it took.

Despite all of this, I still miss you quite terribly, but don’t flatter yourself. I miss the hope I felt during that first week, the joy in realizing this is what it felt to find something good after searching for so long. I miss the longing fulfilled that you represented.

And now, late at night, with no one else on my mind, I’m forced to question everything and miss you more and debate sending a message as if now is the time you will change your mind and see. I know it won’t. I know you don’t want me. But you’re all my brain has to want.

In its loneliness, it doesn’t care how you’ve hurt us. It thinks maybe just one more hang out will heal us. That it couldn’t do any harm, but my heart knows better.

Most people would argue it’s the heart who eggs the brain on, but with me I think it’s the opposite. You see, my brain is always searching for the logical solution. You are the last person I liked and I’m lonely. To my brain, this is the obvious solution. Just go back, keep it casual.

But my heart knows this path all too well. It’s been bent and broken by years of convincing it this was a good thing. It sees you for who you are and knows that despite our strong, we cannot survive another attack right now. We need to keep building ourselves and finding our worth from God and not you.

Past me might text you. Play it cool. Try to get you to come over so for a few hours I could forget how empty some of the spaces in my life are. Kind of like our last night. It was never more than a connection of two people searching for a connection they’ll never have together, but needing a distraction from the world.

I think that’s what we called it. A distraction.

I don’t want to be someone’s distraction anymore. I want to be someone’s reason for paying attention. But I know I’ll never be yours.

“Make it easy, say I never mattered.” I know you don’t miss me like I miss you. I bet you don’t even think of me until you have to. But I don’t want your thoughts anyway. What good do they do me?

No, I want to stop missing you. I want to fill that wound that never quite heals and learn that no one can harm me. I want to have faith I’ll feel the hope again, only then it will be real and I won’t have to doubt.

I’m tired of the fake scenarios in my brain where you come back or I have a chance to say everything I need to say. I’m tired of giving you any space at all.

It’s not going to be easy, but someday I know I won’t miss you at all.

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