When I got back to my car to go and get lunch, I noticed the blue sedan parked beside me, almost the same as yours. Then I thought about you and our similarities again: our names after our fathers, us being the middle child and having two sisters, our cars, having single mothers. Too many coincidences that I started looking at them as signs. But it was also too soon: too soon to predict, too soon to assume, too soon to expect.
I did not receive any message from you yesterday aside from your usual morning text – literally “morning” text. I lost count of how many times I composed and erased a message for you just to start a conversation.
While I was browsing social media last night, you called. My heart skipped a beat and I picked up your call without hesitation. You sounded happy. You asked if I have missed you; I almost told you the truth but managed to save myself and lied.
As the duration of your call lengthened, we got quieter; I ran out of things to say because you always seemed uninterested; I chose to save some of my stories and rants as I felt you got tired listening to them. You ran out of stories you want to share. Maybe you felt uncomfortable as I asked more questions based on your stories – I just wanted to know you better.
Reality hit me hard last night.
You were not as interested to me as I am into you.
You always talk but never listened. I tried to cheer you up one time – I told you the only joke I have. I am not sure if it did the magic to calm your frown, but hey, I tried. That was how I knew, how I knew you do not like me but just the idea that I like you; how I knew that coincidences could happen without having any meaning; I knew because I felt. After all, we also have a lot in opposite than in common; I love long drives, you do not; I work with kids, you deal with adults; I love vodka, you love beer; I love pasta, unfortunately, you are not a pasta person. You even asked me once to change the playlist I was playing when I gave you a ride.
I would love to call you my person, but for that to happen, you have to be mine first. But you are not, and I am not sure if you will ever be. In a game with truth or dare, I lost. Unfortunately, you were holding the card to ask any question you wish, and so you have asked; you asked if I could wait. And to be honest, waiting is easy; it just gets hard when you are waiting for nothing, but it gets worthless when you are waiting for something that only seems like out of the ordinary.
It is never cool to take advantage of people and their feelings. Never. It breaks people apart; it crashes their heart and soul. It gives them false hope. It makes them ask themselves if they are enough, or if they did something to deserve such pain. Stop playing with people’s hearts. It makes them question their worth.
When someone knows he has power over one person, he would tie that person to his strings and play her like a puppet; be with her when he wants, talks to her when he has time, and do anything he wishes when it is convenient for him.
I always wonder why people love playing games. Why people love magic and illusion? And why do people love running after the ones running from them? Why do we keep putting the wrong puzzle piece in our holes? Have not we had enough bruised knees and elbows when we were young that we also crave for emotional pain?
I was asking these questions to myself since last night when you hung up the phone. I told myself I could have simply avoided this storm by simply avoiding you. But why does that have to be so hard? Why does it have to feel so good having you around? Even when it costs me pain, even when it bothers me, even when it is the very last thought I have every night before I sleep.
So if you ever noticed my distance, never think of it as hate.
Think of it as me trying to save myself from the pain I am about to inflict initiative. Think of it as me choosing to wait from a distance. Think of it as me preparing myself for the right time. For I know there is. Not as soon as we wanted it to be, but soon enough until we are both ready. I do not honestly think I could possibly hate you, for I have never hated a person that could cause me pain.
I just want to stop doubting myself; I just want to stop asking myself the same bullshit over and over again; I just want to stop feeling the pain my past lover have made me felt. I am done feeling sorry for myself. I want to go back to when I was strong enough to stand on my own; I want to go back when I was not glued to my phone waiting for a message or call and thinking what did I do wrong to receive a silent treatment. I want to escape the agony I am putting myself into.
Because I know I deserve better than being an option.