Brace yourself, this is long post.
It’s been awhile. Months since we’ve actually talked. Actually, it’s been months since we even had a conversation. The funny part is, you were the one who said you still wanted to be friends. This time last year, I was head over heels crazy about you. You were the first guy in my life who I ever saw myself truly being with. And when you held me and told me that you didn’t want to hook up, that you wanted something real, I took it to heart.
That first night when you drove up to meet me, I had zero expectations. The whole thing with Brent had me upset, but you understood. You understood why I ended things with him, and you understood exactly what I was talking about. I mentioned that I craved a spark with someone, that I couldn’t just be with anyone. You just sat there and listened to me talk. It was the first time I felt really open with someone I just met.
When you kissed me at the end of that night, after we had spent four hours sitting in your car and just talking, I felt butterflies. You gave me that. When I needed someone to talk to, you were there. If I was feeling down, you gave me guidance and let me talk it out. And you were so supportive, in so many ways.
I had never brought a guy home before you. Never even mentioned any to my mother before you. So having you come up and help us move was a big move for me, and I felt so relieved having you out in the open, and it felt so real at that point.
When we had first started seeing each other, you had told me not to give up on you. I still have a text somewhere on my phone saying that, and how you wanted to work things out with me. That money was just tight, and schooling was priority. You were studying to be a nurse, there was a lot on your plate. I understood that, and I didn’t expect you to handle everything. Distance is hard.
But you hurt me. The day I brought you home to help us move was the last day I saw you. Sure, we talked everyday, and you acted like nothing was wrong. I’d mention I missed you, and now that it was out in the open, I could spend a weekend with you. You told me money was tight, you didn’t have time. I let is slide because you made me feel like you were being honest with me.
We had a phone conversation that lasted over two hours the night before Thanksgiving. I remember you telling me that you felt bad, you wanted to see me but you refused to accept my money because you knew I needed it. I told you I just wanted to see you, I’d figure things out, I offered you gas money. You refused.
So I guess I shouldn’t have been so shocked when you called me two days later to end things. Except, I was at work, and for some reason you didn’t think I had work since we were closed for Thanksgiving. Let me tell you, there is no greater feeling than being at work and having your phone go off with six missed phone calls from you, and then a message saying you really needed to talk to me. And then a super long message explaining how you couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t fair to me – that’s what you said. That you couldn’t figure out when you could see me next because you had no money and couldn’t find the time, so it wasn’t fair to me to keep it going.
It was bad enough that you sent me all this while I was at work, but the more I thought about it later on, the worse I felt. I actually cried over you. I remember I was folding boxes, I hadn’t replied, I had no idea what to say other than, “I’m at work, I can’t deal with this now.” A coworker asked me what was wrong and he gave me a hug because he felt bad for me. He told me that on the bright side, I wouldn’t have to buy you a Christmas gift. I shrugged it off and went to the bathroom to cry it out for a few minutes just to hold myself together.
Later on, when I had the chance to leave to cash my check, I called you. It was an awkward phone call. We barely said anything to each other. I was too hurt to really talk.
Maybe my coworker had mentioned it to Alex, because he wound up sending me home early that night. And I remember walking home and trying so hard not to cry because it hurt. It hurt so much. I saw it going somewhere, I had so much hope because you were the first guy who ever said he wanted to have something real with me. And then you gave up on me. Without even talking things out with me, or giving me an option. You called it quits.
Eventually, I got over it, and I wanted to still talk to you, and to still be friends. And we did talk, just not as often. Eventually, that talking subsided altogether, and you just stopped messaging me back.
But you know what the worst part about all of this was? You lied to me. You gave me these bullshit reasons for ending it with me. And I was too hurt when you said it to really think about it, but eventually I found out. You were seeing someone else, or had started to, right around the time of ending things with me. You know how I found out? Instagram. I creeped on you often. Which is stalkerish, and all that, I know. I wasn’t over you yet.
She had tagged you in this photo at the beginning of December. It was a picture of you and her, and captioned, “He even likes my stupid faces.” And my heart just dropped. Because it was less than a week after ending things with me. And I’m not stupid. You don’t post something like that about a friend. They were too close to each other. And I found other pictures, and one mentioned him being her boyfriend. Which also killed me because in the two months we were together, we were never official.
That’s the thing that’s the most funny, I think. We really weren’t together very long, we never did more than spend time with each other in the car, but you created such an impact on me at the time. Because you seemed like you understood and cared about me in a way I never had with anyone else.
I’m over it now, long over it. But thinking about the state I was in this time last year, it really makes me think of you. I see your posts on Facebook a lot, and I saw you got rid of your photos together with your girlfriend. Did you end things with her? There’s a part of me that wants to text you, but I have before. I tried talking to you a few months ago, just as a friend. You said things weren’t going well, but you never elaborated. I can’t make you talk to me, and like I said, I thought you wanted us to still be friends. That’s the kicker.
There’s this part of me that misses you. And I thank you, for teaching me a lesson. You were one guy who I didn’t think would hurt me like that, but you did. They say that’s usually how it happens, too. But you taught me a lesson.
I didn’t hide the guy I’m seeing now. From our second date, I told my mother. And it’s never felt so good to have something so out in the open. I made that mistake with you, and I wish I had done things differently. But I also realize, I tried. You weren’t the guy for me. I really had hoped, but you weren’t it. And this letter to you, it’s not about saying how much I miss you. It’s to tell you that it’s okay that you lied. I forgive you. Maybe you thought I was hurt too much already. That by saying you left me for a girl much closer to you would be like a double slap in the face. I mean it was, but, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.
I’m happy where I am in my relationship. Us not working out? It led me to someone who actually wants to make things work. So you know what, it’s okay. I made some mistakes after you, I did the wrong things out of loneliness, but that’s alright, too. I learned.
I wish you the best with life, but I feel your part in my life has come to an end. I wish we could have remained friends, but honestly, it’s probably better we aren’t.
I could’ve fallen in love with you, you know? I practically begged you to give me another chance so many times. I feel so dumb now. But I’m long over you. It just makes me sad how things turned out.
You need to start doing more for you, and I hope that whatever happens in your life, you figure that out.
All the best,
A girl you used to know.
October Writing Challenge #26