i don't think it was love

I don't think it was love. We were never emotionally vulnerable to each other, and the two hard conversations we had were so hard, so stilted. It shouldn't be so hard to tell someone how you feel if you trust them, if you feel safe with them, should it? And I don't believe you can love without vulnerability and trust.

If I think about it, he never said, "I miss you."

I said it once.

Maybe I should've known then I was already too far gone. But hey, the denial is strong in me. And friends miss friends too. A lot. I should know.

And I know. I know. It wouldn't have worked out anyway. But I had thought this way the whole time, even up until the end, and it didn't change anything. I still felt those feelings. And when he turned to me, I knew before a single word passed his lips, that he didn't feel the same way. I saw it in that soft gaze, an answer more than the answer he gave. Was there pity? I thought there was. Or was that guilt? Guilt was probably too much to ask for. Consternation, maybe. Maybe he didn't know how to deal with the me in front of him, my emotions bursting from my seams, unraveling me into that barest version of myself I'd never wanted to show him. And that worse, that as I unraveled, it felt like this was a version of me he couldn't bear to see. That I was alone there, feeling like a boat torn from the dock, sent into the sea.

But if it wasn't love, am I allowed to hurt this much?

I wonder what it is that hurts me so much. To know that my delusions were never real? Or to be so alone in the hurting. To know now that I felt so much when he didn't. And that he never will. And that like a fool I had hoped even a little that he felt the same way. But at least now maybe I'm glad he didn't.

When this first happened I wanted him to hurt, I wanted him to feel that tearing empty hollow beating in my chest. To lose his appetite. To struggle to get up in the morning. To actually cry, for once. To not be able to stop.

To think of me and be in pain. To miss me, even a little.

I don't think he did these things. I think he went about his happy days, playing his games, meeting his friends, going on adventures. He always seemed to know how to enjoy life. Unlike me. I had always been the one growing up that thought, when everyone else seemed to be having fun, is this really so fun? Why are all of you happy? Are you acting? Or is it just me that feels like we're laughing because everyone else is? We're pretending, hoping we'll feel something.

But he wasn't like that. He really seemed to enjoy the moment, and from him I was able to learn to enjoy the moment a little too. He made me feel like I didn't need to be good at something to be happy, that it wasn't that those 'fun' moments had never been 'fun' before, but just that I had been alone. That having someone by my side was enough. That to laugh together was happiness. That was something I liked about him.

I'm not saying he can't feel emotions, or loss, or love. He has lost and loved more than me, and that's probably why it was easier for him to know he didn't have feelings for me. Because he has felt that depth of emotion before, and this time it probably wasn't there. That's okay. I know that's not something he or I could've changed.

I just wish...he had told me.

Anyway, it's easier now. To be happy for him even, that he didn't have these feelings. It's good only one of us had to grieve the loss of what never was. And what never could've been.

i'm a clown though

I'll tell you why.

Don't hate me, please. I know everyone's told me not to.

But I texted him, asking to be friends. Not that kind of friends. Well, I can't lie I am going to miss the sex. But I really do want to see if we can be real friends this time. If not, I will be sad, but I know that's the most likely possibility. I am prepared.

Well, that might be a lie.

I think I'm prepared. I probably am less prepared than I think I am.

But so far it's been good, I think. Well, the not so good is that it still makes me happy to hear from him. But I don't feel this nagging need to hear from him everyday anymore, or to send him all the little pieces of my everyday life that interest me. So that part is good. I can allow for distance and not fear it.

It's not so hard now to think that the jokes are just jokes, the memes are just memes, there's nothing beyond. That he could be doing something with someone else, and enjoying it more than he'd enjoyed anything with me, and that this is okay too. I can't say I'm okay yet, but I do feel closer. I think the more I talk to him now, the more it's clear he didn't feel anything for me before, and that he'd just been having fun. I don't think he wanted to hurt me.

Though I do question, sometimes, in the heart of my hearts, if he didn't care if he did hurt me?

I don't know if I'm ready for that answer yet. I'm sure he would probably tell me, or tell himself even, that he didn't want to hurt me, that he hadn't expected to. But really, is that the truth.

But day by day this question grows less important. These feelings are passing. These days I thought were so beautiful are waning. And new, different, stranger days are blooming on the horizon. But maybe these, in their own way, will be beautiful too. Maybe one day I will see them as even more beautiful than those of the past.

And even if none of this lasts, I tell myself it is okay. There will be more beautiful days. They will come. I tell myself this even though I do not believe it yet.

I'm scared, I think. Of who I've become, of how scared I am to lose someone who didn't care for me the way I cared for them. It's stupid, clown behavior. I know that.

But I don't know how to stop. I really, really hope we can be friends. That when we get old we can look back and laugh at this year of us playing around as a fond memory. That we'll be with people we love who love us back. That we won't throw each other away.

But I know that in most worlds it won't work out that smoothly. In most of them, there won't be a place for me in your life when you've found 'the one'. And I understand that. I'd never want to make someone's partner feel any kind of way but secure and loved, and if I have to be gone to ensure that, I'll be gone.

But that doesn't mean it won't be sad. You might ask why I am even trying for friendship at all, when the most likely scenario is that I'll be thrown away in the end.

The answer is easy. I'm a clown. I want to try, for the hope of that one universe where it all works out. Where love and friendship and the things in between can all coexist. I'd rather try and end up in pain, then not try and wonder forever what if.

I know I'm a fool. I know I'm not acting rationally. But fuck rationality. Where has it gotten me anyway?