Read This When You Can’t Stop Thinking About Him

When The Right People Meet At The Wrong Time

The sun was closing down and I could see the crowd getting bigger and bigger as I waited for you to arrive. I looked at my watch, rolled my eyes, and shook my head once I realized that you were fashionably late… again. I wasn’t surprised though – punctuality was never in your list of priorities.

I thought about leaving and not telling you where I would go. But I had an important thing to say.

I was sitting on the sand and getting used to the sound of the waves when you suddenly stood beside me and said, “I’m sorry. The traffic’s really bad.”

You offered your fingers to help me stand back up and I took them while I gave you this tired face in response.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. And I almost laughed at your question, because everything about us was wrong. We might have started okay but we were slowly falling apart, and a huge part of me was wondering why we were even still together.

“I waited here for almost an hour.” I said a little too loudly, my voice shaking. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

“Are we fighting?” You closed the distance between us just so you could make sure that I wouldn’t explode in a public space.

“Well, aren’t we?” I looked you in the eyes, daring you to have a staring contest with me.

But you bowed your head down and stared at the ocean. “I’m not in the mood for this. Can we just go get some dinner?” You tried to sweet-talk me, confidently believing that you could work your magic in me.

“I’m not really hungry anymore.” I said calmly. “I’m just going to go home.”

“Oh come on. You don’t have to do this, you know.” You were starting to get frustrated.

The wind blew my hair and for a moment I didn’t know what to say. Few seconds passed and no words wanted to leave my mouth. You reached for my hands and you were stunned when I pulled back.

“What is it you’re not telling me?”

“This isn’t working out anymore.” I uttered weakly.

“Why are you saying this?” You sounded confused. “Is there someone else? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about!” I said with intense emotion. I could feel some strangers turning to look at us. I put my hands on my head, attempting to put myself together. “See that’s the thing. I have no idea where this relationship is going. I have no idea what I want. I’m clueless about so many things in my life right now.”

“I can help you. We can still fix this.” You whispered.

“I just want to figure things out on my own right now. And maybe it’s for the best if I’m just alone.”

I waited for you to respond but you stayed quiet. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re going to find someone else who’s going to be so sure of who they are. And I’m not that person at the moment.”

You didn’t want to meet my eyes. And I took that as a cue to leave.

I met you during the time when there were a lot of doubts and fears and paranoias haunting me inside my brain. We had the right love story but the world set us up at the wrong time. Maybe if I swallowed my feelings, we would still be together by now. But you were aware that I wasn’t the type who would suppress my emotions. And I apologize for not even trying.

You shared so much of yourself to me and I know that you felt betrayed when I didn’t give you a notice about my departure. I just walked away all of a sudden because that’s what I do when I’m scared. And I regret leaving you like that.

I regret not being completely honest with you about the thoughts that were bothering me in my mind. I regret not giving you my entire soul when you absolutely entrusted me yours. I regret not fighting for a relationship that could potentially last a lifetime.

But mostly, I regret breaking your heart.

I can write you thousands of apology letters, and say I’m sorry a million times, but I’m sure that won’t be enough to mend the pain that I brought into your life.

But if you’ll give me a chance to correct the mistakes that I did, I will give my best to show you how much I’ve changed. And maybe then we’ll get to prove to ourselves that love is sweeter the second time around. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Angelo Caerlang is the author of Sparks in Broken Lights.

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