I think about you from time to time; I wonder where you are now and if you ever think about me, too.
I know it’s my fault things didn’t work out between us, you were simply ready for love and I wasn’t. I was too set on being alone, on making my own mark on the world and taking care of myself first before I involved another heart in my life. I hope you understand why I never let you in. You wanted someone who was ready to love, who wanted to go on dates, kiss in public and spend the mornings cuddling entangled in sheets together.
It sounds wonderfully romantic, but I’m not a romantic.
Thoughts of you cloud my mind during the most inconvenient times. I think of you when I’m sipping my morning coffee, wondering if you’d take cream in yours. I think of you when I’m in the shower as water is rushing down my face, wondering if I’m the reason nothing ever works out for me. I think of you when I’m alone in a crowded place, wondering if you’d proudly be walking through unknown faces with my hand in yours.
But those thoughts made me realize I never think of you when I’m busy or laughing. I never hear a joke and think how much I’d love to share it with you. I never go out with my friends and wish you were there for me to dance with. I never want to text you when something good happens.
I only think of you when I’m lonely because that’s when it’s easiest to feel like part of you is missing.
It’s always easier to miss someone in the middle of the night when you’re lonely than it is to miss someone in the middle of the day when you’re busy. And I think that says a lot.
I only think of you when I want someone there because the silence is growing to thick to bear. I think about how maybe I should have tried to spend more time with you, how maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you away, how maybe I should have given you more of a chance. But I didn’t.
You flirted and I rejected, you gave me compliments and I shut down, you tried to kiss me in public and I turned away.
I’m not ready for love and the truth is I don’t know when I will be.
It wasn’t you, as painfully cliché as it is, it’s true. It wasn’t you, it was never you – it was always me. I’m the one who isn’t ready for love. I’m not the one who wants goodbye kisses or to be strolling through the store holding hands, I’m not the one who wants to depend on someone, I’m not the one who is ready to give up my single life where all I know how to do is take up space. Trying to make room for someone else isn’t on my to-do list this week or anytime soon.
That’s not me, that’s not who I am and I don’t think that’s who I will ever be. At least not now, not when I met you.
I’ll always wonder what we could have been. I’ll wonder if you could have been the one to make me fall in love again. I’ll always wonder if you’d be the one to help me complete the endless list of projects and ideas I have churning in my head. I’ll always wonder if you’d be the one who could make me appreciate how sentimental and important love is.
I pushed you away, I know that, but I’ll always wonder. Even if I never actually want to know.