I get it- my loss…


I was doing so well, too. Felt like I came to good understanding and acceptance of my place in his world. That understanding and acceptance came with several really good days of hanging out, keeping my hands to myself. I can’t really say for sure what changed. Last weekend, while spending several hours driving around, he said he was still attracted to me. That statement came with a very clear and logical explanation as why attraction was not enough and I understood that. It all makes perfect sense. But somehow only the “I’m still attracted to you” stuck and the logical clear explanation was lost.

So I’m at a loss as to what changed. By Friday night, I was consumed by a need to have him, to fuck him, to feel his hands on my ass. With that consumption I could no longer see the logic in “just friends”; “just friends” gutted me. I sent a retarded text message and I immediately understood I was nowhere near ready or able to be “just friends”. He politely suggested I sleep on it. Having been with him when he got similar texts from other girls he’s not into, and having heard his exasperation with the drama, I imagined his sigh, eye roll and head shake as he read that text and realized I was one of THOSE girls

I slept on it and felt Built to Spill had something to say about the way I felt,
“In the morning, feeling ½ right; feeling normal. Just an isolated incident”.

Although I wasn’t sure it was an isolated incident. Saturday quite possibly was my worst day in a long time. It was rainy and there was a full moon. I would like to think something atmospheric or celestial caused me to relate to people SO poorly that day. I couldn’t snap out of a funk and funk means I spent too much time with my darkest and most self-hatred thoughts. The value in “just friends” was a distant imprint of a memory, like if someone would have started to explain, it may have sounded familiar but it had no legs in the current reality, you know? Instead, the thought he would fuck anyone else like he fucked me manifested itself into a knot in my stomach. The thought that he was capable of being so smitten and sweet and that he could not possibly feel that for me felt like a 1,000lb of self doubt sitting right on my chest. I totally get it. I have only been dumped by one other person so I admit I have very POOR coping skills. I know that he and I didn’t really even date so much as fucked and, on good days, I can keep that all in perspective. But on bad days, like Saturday, I feel useless, loveless, and hopeless all because this boy can’t love me. It’s still a mystery how I could have had so much hope and love for him in a short time, particularly since he never treated me all that well.

So, after a really great hike into Hellhole Canyon and a fun dinner at the Turf, I told him, casually, that this would be the last time I see him for a while. His reply? “Have a nice life, you’re walking home”. He didn’t make me walk home but repeated the nice life comment as I got out of the car. And still, when I looked in his face to say goodbye, I didn’t want to go.

I’m sure he’s happy to be done with my drama. I’ll be happy when the feeling I’ve lost something really special subsides and I hope that’s soon because today already feels like a shitpile as I sit on my hands and try not to notice he’s online.