Hey guys. I hope you’re all well. It feels weird to talk directly to you all. I’ve missed you.
My heart hurts today. That physical pain that kinda makes you want to ignore it, kinda makes you want to crawl in to bed and kinda makes you want to die. But I had to go with the first option and get up, make myself look presentable and go with my cousin to get her GCSE results. Because family comes first. Because I love her. Because distractions are good. Because I can’t allow myself to spend another day in bed.
Every time I get like this I could type out a list of my regrets in an instant. Everything I’ve ever done wrong, every time I’ve been a disappointment, every day that I was in the wrong. And today I almost did it again. I almost let myself fall back in to that black hole again. But then I didn’t.
I nearly typed out all of my regrets to you. My desires. My apologises. My wishes. My sorrows. But then I realised you aren’t the person I want to say that all to anymore. I’m not quite sure what’s happened really. It’s like something in my head space has been rearranged. And suddenly you aren’t the person I want to cry to, laugh with, share my happy news, sad news or joy with. And I’m not sure what that means. And I could almost go in to a thinking session about it. But I’m not going to. I’m just going to accept it as it is. That maybe I don’t care about you that much anymore. That “you” don’t really deserve the title as my “you” or my “him” anymore in these blog posts. Sorry.
And I don’t find myself thinking about how you’ve made me feel. Or the things you’ve said to me. I think I’ve just spent too much time chasing that feeling. The feeling that came when I saw you across the room or when you looked at me. When I felt safe and happy just because you saw me and I saw you. It was beautiful. Was. I’ve wasted too much time reaching in to the depths of my emotions for me to be comfortable allowing you to have any control over me anymore. I’ve spent too many days trying to dig myself in to a comfortable state of nostalgia because pushing myself in to memories is just one more thing that has kept me close to you. When in reality you couldn’t be further away. And keeping you close isn’t something I need to do anymore. I’m setting you free. Because it’s not something I want to do anymore. I’m setting myself free.
I got too invested in the idea that we could be something. That we were something. So after that all fell through the roof I kept falling all the way through the house and through the floorboards. You could say I took our “breakup” (me realising we aren’t anything more than friends) extremely hard. I think I was just too invested in the idea of “us”. Because I didn’t want to forget you. I guess I wanted to keep you close to my heart. And I’m not going to apologise for that because I thought you were important to me. And I’ve always been one to keep the important people close. Promising to keep you close was just one more thing that kept me from moving on.
I didn’t realise how exhausted I was thinking about you until I didn’t do it anymore. I used to spend days wondering how you were doing without me. (Fine.) Spending my days hoping that you were pining for me like I was for you. (You weren’t.) Draining back to back to back to back hours of wondering if you were thinking about me, playing with the idea of us in my mind. I spent a lot of time waiting, wondering, hoping praying. And I refuse to do that anymore.
I don’t know what you do with your days or how you spend your time because I just don’t ask you anymore. Maybe I lost interest. Which is quite sad really. Because before, you making a sandwich could brighten my whole day. I have no concept of your routine and give no second thought to the schedule I used to know as well as I knew my own. I’ve forgotten whether you’re a morning or a night person because it no longer affects my sleep schedule.
I no longer want to be reminded of the way your hands felt in mine. Or the way your arms pulled me in. I am done remembering the parts of you that just aren’t relevant in my life anymore. Maybe the best parts of you will stay in my mind but that’s about it. I’m happy to have shared memories with you. But I can’t spend time searching for qualities I thought you once had and feelings I also had once thought you had for me.
It doesn’t hurt me to see you with another girl. Like I can assume it doesn’t hurt you to hear about me with another boy. Even if it did hurt you it wouldn’t matter. It’s a little too late for your feelings to be important to me like that.
I don’t have any important knowledge of what your life is like any more. I just have what you casually mention to me. And finally, I’ve learned that that’s alright.
Love is one of the most confusing and hurtful things I have ever been introduced to. Especially since I was simultaneously trying to hold on to you but also let you go. For so long, holding on seemed to be the thing that was going to happen whilst letting go seemed impossible. I never thought I’d be in this place. But I guess knowing that you aren’t really that huge part of my love life anymore doesn’t scare me. I don’t feel empty or incomplete. But I finally feel that I know who I am outside of you. Outside of us. Outside of our “thing”. And that’s how I know I’m over you. Sorry.