Saturday, July 6, 2013

this is the worst

I dreamed that I came to your show in awhile and you decided to kiss all the girls in New Money infront of me.  I think you saw me first.


Then I had a dream that my dad proposed an indecent relationship with me, and when I turned him down he asked if anything would ever be the same, and he said no, and I went to jump infront of a car-- and then I went to talk to him and explained how much that hurts me.  I had a healthy reaction in the end.  I may have invited it.  I don't know.


I miss you already.  Not in the way that I want to see you, and I have to talk to you-- though I would like to.  But knowing that we can't talk, we may never talk again, that hurts in my chest and aches way deeply with me.  I know you didn't want to either-- I can't believe you would choose this over stopping hurting me.

Because that's what I was asking for, you know.  I was asking "Please, stop hurting me, stop abusing me, do something about this behavior -- so we can be friends, or whatever it is that you want."  That's why I want you to figure out what's going on in your head.  You claim to care about me, so figure out in your brain why you treat me this way.  It's not 'easier' to force ourselves apart, its easier to just stop treating someone bad.  At least you have their support.  Pushing me away-- you told me, basically, that abusing me is more important to you than I actually am.  You chose laziness.

And that sucks.  You're at the age that this stuff can get set in stone.  And I'm perfectly aware that maybe I'm just terrible and you do this because of that and you never ever would with any other person ever.  But I don't believe it, because you weren't always nice to your closest friends either.

I wasn't telling you to change everything about yourself.  I like who you are.  I just don't want you to hurt me, and even if its without intention, ignoring it shows a deliberate lack of care that you -were- hurting someone.

But don't you think I've been hurt enough already?

You have, too.

I just want to care about you.

I know now I'm supposed to be focusing on me, and ignoring you, and not dealing with this at all anymore.  You made your decision, and you decided you don't want to have anything to do with me.

But I still am worried about you.




And, I suppose sadly, I still love you.  I still care so much about you.

I feel like I should've told you that I adore you but I hate some of your actions.  But it wouldn't have mattered.  You were already saying you don't care about my feelings.

You got mad at me for feeling used.  I can understand that would hurt you, and I'm happy you talked to me about it again-- the actions you do point to things that your words don't.  That's why I question you so much.  For how awful you felt with me being worried, how terrible do you think I felt feeling like the one person I trusted used me?  And has no interest in me?  And doesn't care about my feelings?  Would try to get my shirt off on a Saturday and to get sexy and within an hour say 'maybe' to another date.  Like if I behave well enough, I'll get one?

I know it was based on your anxieties and feelings-- but all the things I questioned you on I had every right to question you on.  It doesn't mean I can't trust you.  It means there are some huge gaps in communication-- you're not telling me things you say you're telling me, and I wasn't asking out of fear you'd react the way you did.

And your answer that flirting with Elyse had all but stopped.  So it had mostly stopped.  It had almost completely stopped.  There's that room for fudging there that's kind of unacceptable if you're having sex with me and grabbing my boobs.  There shouldn't be almost.  That was how it was when we were dating.  Its just leaving room for the fact that you have feelings for her that you're not willing to give up.

But you are willing to give up me.

It's so telling.  It hurts so much.  How can't you see how that would make me feel used?  Even if you do have feelings for me.  You refuse to have self awareness.

Why are you so afraid of that?




And I hate that I still miss you.

No comments:

Post a Comment