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cheezIt's over.
It's so hard even to type that. Two words but they hurt so much. All that we had gone up in smoke, even though it was probably not worth much to him in the first place. But it was worth something to me. It was worth a lot.
I feel like a fool. I feel like I played myself. The classic story: you get into a friends with benefits relationship and then you catch feelings.
But even that is wrong. That time I remember, in the dark of the night, my nerves jangling, 6, 7 months into the undefined blur that was the thing between us, asking, "So what are we?" Unable to say what I might want myself. Too full of pride, denial, fear, uncertainty. He says, he said, "Good question, I want to keep things the way they are. Like friends with benefits." And I agreed, thinking I could do it, I wasn't even in love, I was into him, sure, but not thaaat into him. Too scared to end things then. Too scared to be alone. But here I am alone anyway. And even then I knew I was probably too attached. I wouldn't have worked up the courage to ask the question if I wasn't.
But I thought, I wished, I hoped, that I wouldn't get more attached. That I could keep what we had, keep being happy, keep enjoying the good times, and not feel sad over the fact that one day things would end, that he would be with someone else.
And that's the lie. I don't know when I started to be sad to let him go, or if I had always felt that way. I don't know when I realized it would hurt seeing him with someone else. I just know that at some point, this was the truth. Which fucking sucked, but what could I do?
And no matter what I told myself, once I made those realizations, I knew I couldn't do this anymore. I knew I couldn't, but I kept pushing things off. I knew it would always end up like this, but I didn't want to lose him yet. I always managed to find an excuse to tell myself not yet. Not now. Next week, next month, next year. But when he wasn't around I'd be sad, I'd wonder what he was doing, if he missed me the way I did him. And I knew I shouldn't feel that way, that fwb wouldn't feel that way, and that the answer was almost certainly no. It hurt.
And the more it hurt the more I tried to convince myself I was okay. The good times felt so good, but whenever I was alone I felt so bad. Thoughts of him started to take over my daily life, crowd my mind. I felt so stupid, thinking so much about a boy I knew didn't like me back.
So stupid, unable to squash the tiny thread of hope that he might feel the same way.
I don't know why this week was the breaking point. Why the part of me that was trying to convince myself I was okay seemed to be failing. I didn't feel okay anymore. I felt untethered, wild, lost. Like if I didn't say something I would snap.
So I asked him to talk. He said that he had something to talk about too. Stupidly, this gave me hope. I know, logically that doesn't make sense. But I couldn't stop myself.
It was there in the car, in the parking lot of the restaurant we'd planned to get dinner at (haha we'd planned to talk over dinner), when I told him, "I'm getting too attached to be friends with benefits anymore." His answer was at once the one I expected, and yet the one I couldn't help hoping against. "I know we haven't been good at keeping things platonic. I'm sorry I let things get this far. I'm sorry for not communicating enough." It really hurt to hear, even though I saw it coming. I didn't realize how much I'd hoped for a different answer. How much I still hope. How I really wish he cared more about me.
How even then he was both caring and callous at the same time. Apologizing, saying he really valued our friendship and enjoyed my company and hoped that after some time and distance we could talk again. How he asked if I'd still feel up to going to the concert we'd planned to go to in February, how he'd understand if I didn't. Saying he was sorry he didn't communicate enough. All I could say to everything is I don't know.
How I said, "I understand that you feel how you feel, even though I wish we could've been more." How his answer was silence.
And I asked, "Did you ever feel anything for me?"
He said, "I thought I was catching feelings in the beginning, but I think it was just b/c was so excited for me. At some point I realized we weren't a good match."
I asked him, "Can you tell me why you think we aren't a good match?"
And what hurt me is he said, "I'd rather not say."
I asked, "Can you tell me why you'd rather not say?"
He said, "I need to process."
I said, "If you are able to process, can you tell me later? Through text or whatever, I think it would help me."
And he was able to say, over text later, that he wanted a family and a grounded life, a house. Since I don't want children I know a family is not in the cards with me, at least if having kids is your definition of family. Which his probably is, how would I know? I understand that's a dealbreaker, but I can't help thinking there was something more—how is family a reason that you 'prefer not to say'? And why could you never have brought this up to me in person?
I feel a little delusional. That even though now I know he never had real feelings for me, I can't stop thinking what if he realizes something different over time? (Never going to happen.) (Shouldn't matter if it happens.)
And why do I feel this way when he didn't try to communicate these things with me. When it was always me to bring up the hard conversations, the conversations I knew would hurt me. I wish so bad that he had cared just enough to have the courage to tell me his honest feelings without me asking. But maybe it's better this way—at least I have something to dislike him for. But I can't make myself dislike him, and I didn't, despite seeing the obvious flaws or incompatibilities like this.
It hurts so bad right now. I can't stop my thoughts from running around in circles in my head, regrets picking at my brain like little crow beaks. Thinking thoughts I know are max level stupid: if I can take back what I said and get back into our unjolly little fwb situation, if I should message him.
I'm scared I'll never be loved.
It's so hard even to type that. Two words but they hurt so much. All that we had gone up in smoke, even though it was probably not worth much to him in the first place. But it was worth something to me. It was worth a lot.
I feel like a fool. I feel like I played myself. The classic story: you get into a friends with benefits relationship and then you catch feelings.
But even that is wrong. That time I remember, in the dark of the night, my nerves jangling, 6, 7 months into the undefined blur that was the thing between us, asking, "So what are we?" Unable to say what I might want myself. Too full of pride, denial, fear, uncertainty. He says, he said, "Good question, I want to keep things the way they are. Like friends with benefits." And I agreed, thinking I could do it, I wasn't even in love, I was into him, sure, but not thaaat into him. Too scared to end things then. Too scared to be alone. But here I am alone anyway. And even then I knew I was probably too attached. I wouldn't have worked up the courage to ask the question if I wasn't.
But I thought, I wished, I hoped, that I wouldn't get more attached. That I could keep what we had, keep being happy, keep enjoying the good times, and not feel sad over the fact that one day things would end, that he would be with someone else.
And that's the lie. I don't know when I started to be sad to let him go, or if I had always felt that way. I don't know when I realized it would hurt seeing him with someone else. I just know that at some point, this was the truth. Which fucking sucked, but what could I do?
And no matter what I told myself, once I made those realizations, I knew I couldn't do this anymore. I knew I couldn't, but I kept pushing things off. I knew it would always end up like this, but I didn't want to lose him yet. I always managed to find an excuse to tell myself not yet. Not now. Next week, next month, next year. But when he wasn't around I'd be sad, I'd wonder what he was doing, if he missed me the way I did him. And I knew I shouldn't feel that way, that fwb wouldn't feel that way, and that the answer was almost certainly no. It hurt.
And the more it hurt the more I tried to convince myself I was okay. The good times felt so good, but whenever I was alone I felt so bad. Thoughts of him started to take over my daily life, crowd my mind. I felt so stupid, thinking so much about a boy I knew didn't like me back.
So stupid, unable to squash the tiny thread of hope that he might feel the same way.
I don't know why this week was the breaking point. Why the part of me that was trying to convince myself I was okay seemed to be failing. I didn't feel okay anymore. I felt untethered, wild, lost. Like if I didn't say something I would snap.
So I asked him to talk. He said that he had something to talk about too. Stupidly, this gave me hope. I know, logically that doesn't make sense. But I couldn't stop myself.
It was there in the car, in the parking lot of the restaurant we'd planned to get dinner at (haha we'd planned to talk over dinner), when I told him, "I'm getting too attached to be friends with benefits anymore." His answer was at once the one I expected, and yet the one I couldn't help hoping against. "I know we haven't been good at keeping things platonic. I'm sorry I let things get this far. I'm sorry for not communicating enough." It really hurt to hear, even though I saw it coming. I didn't realize how much I'd hoped for a different answer. How much I still hope. How I really wish he cared more about me.
How even then he was both caring and callous at the same time. Apologizing, saying he really valued our friendship and enjoyed my company and hoped that after some time and distance we could talk again. How he asked if I'd still feel up to going to the concert we'd planned to go to in February, how he'd understand if I didn't. Saying he was sorry he didn't communicate enough. All I could say to everything is I don't know.
How I said, "I understand that you feel how you feel, even though I wish we could've been more." How his answer was silence.
And I asked, "Did you ever feel anything for me?"
He said, "I thought I was catching feelings in the beginning, but I think it was just b/c
I asked him, "Can you tell me why you think we aren't a good match?"
And what hurt me is he said, "I'd rather not say."
I asked, "Can you tell me why you'd rather not say?"
He said, "I need to process."
I said, "If you are able to process, can you tell me later? Through text or whatever, I think it would help me."
And he was able to say, over text later, that he wanted a family and a grounded life, a house. Since I don't want children I know a family is not in the cards with me, at least if having kids is your definition of family. Which his probably is, how would I know? I understand that's a dealbreaker, but I can't help thinking there was something more—how is family a reason that you 'prefer not to say'? And why could you never have brought this up to me in person?
I feel a little delusional. That even though now I know he never had real feelings for me, I can't stop thinking what if he realizes something different over time? (Never going to happen.) (Shouldn't matter if it happens.)
And why do I feel this way when he didn't try to communicate these things with me. When it was always me to bring up the hard conversations, the conversations I knew would hurt me. I wish so bad that he had cared just enough to have the courage to tell me his honest feelings without me asking. But maybe it's better this way—at least I have something to dislike him for. But I can't make myself dislike him, and I didn't, despite seeing the obvious flaws or incompatibilities like this.
It hurts so bad right now. I can't stop my thoughts from running around in circles in my head, regrets picking at my brain like little crow beaks. Thinking thoughts I know are max level stupid: if I can take back what I said and get back into our unjolly little fwb situation, if I should message him.
I'm scared I'll never be loved.
