I wrote a list of things I like about you and it said things like ‘the smell of his skin relaxes me’ and ‘perfect dick’ and ‘the best kisser in the entire world, probably.’
Below it I wrote a list of things I don’t like about you. It was shorter and it ended with “he doesn’t love me.”
I don’t know how to act around someone who won’t tell me what he needs. I don’t know if I should tell you how smart you are or if that’s something you already know. I don’t know if you have insecurities about women I need to assuage. I don’t know if I need to tell you that your dick is perfect. That normally I don’t have so much trouble forming sentences while someone is inside me.
I’m always worried about how people feel, and whether they have been loved enough. I think when you are a person with anxiety, your mind can get away from you sometimes and you can think some pretty nasty thoughts about yourself. It gives you a lot of empathy. I don’t like the idea of anyone else having to deal with those kind of thoughts, so I try to give them ammunition in the form of reality. I tell them truthfully the things they don’t have to worry about.
I don’t think you think about any of these things, and it’s the most exhausting part about being a woman. Before you, my head was full of things much more interesting and important than playing the same conversations on repeat and looking for clues that aren’t there.
“I am dumber because of this relationship” I add to the second list.
I can’t believe how how capable I am of giving so much thought to someone who almost certainly is not thinking this much about me.
I can’t believe how capable I am of being pathetic.
Whenever I get frustrated with something, I try to understand it’s purpose. As long as there’s some kind of goal or reason for the pain, I can take it. It’s self-administered logotherapy.
But I don’t have enough experience to understand what the bigger picture is here. What am I learning? What do I get as my reward for cluttering my brain with these inane thoughts? Am I making it better, for when I find someone else?
Maybe I will get bored soon. Maybe there are only so many minutes of your life that can be spent wondering what it means if he hasn’t texted today and all those minutes are about to expire. Then I can just be happy and relaxed forever. Like you.