And so the feeling that we have been growing apart, slowly consumes me, we are indeed growing apart. We enjoy things without each other. We learn new things separately. We appreciate things not side by side anymore. It is a bitter pill to swallow, but we are really growing apart.
I wouldn’t like to think that I am the only one making an effort for us to stay together, I know you are too, but maybe all our efforts, even when combined, isn’t enough to get us through whatever phase this is that we seem so stuck on.
You go on doing your thing, I go doing mine. And there lies the problem, we don’t do things together anymore. I know when we are together it is all butterflies and rainbows once more, at least it is for me, but when we are apart, in its literal and figurative sense, we are APART. Like you are my occasional lover and I am the same to you, like a weekend mistress of some sort. It is ugly to compare it to that, but that what it is for me. We talk over the phone and tell what happened to our day, nothing special, just the same sick routine we have. I sometimes think we do it, just because we are obliged to do so, or that was what we are used to, or worse just to get it over with. Sometimes we fight and we let the day end not talking to each other, whatever happened to not sleeping while the problem isn’t fixed?
I asked you about work and you tell me I wouldn’t understand. I tell you about law school, and thought to myself you will never understand. The sad realization is we don’t understand each other anymore or at least try to. We settle on what each other give as a response. We settle on the vague explanations. Understanding in a relationship isn’t a one-way street, it’s not only the other who would break out a limb just to fucking understand the other, it takes two persons to finally meet on the same ground, to agree and finally relate on something. We have been missing that connection, that same ground. It is like you are in another plane only parallel to mine, and sadly the planes never meet.
I don’t like the feeling of endless questions. I need answers, answers you can’t give or maybe refuse to give. Because I know, I am not the only one feeling this way. I know at some point you felt it too, the need of a hand to hold but felt no one there. The need of someone to listen to your rant outs but felt you are tuned out. The feeling of drowning and never felt a hand to pull you up. I know I am not perfect and I don’t intend to be. We loved each other in the first place because we are two perfectly flawed creatures who found refuge in each other’s arms. You are not perfect and I don’t wish you to be. I have loved you for who you are, for your insecurities that you vehemently deny, or your distorted beliefs that I try to agree on anyway, you, I loved you or I still believe I still do. I know you loved me too or still do, you don’t know how much I hoped to God you still do. You love me for who I am and who I am not, for what I say and for what I can’t, for my sometimes unreasonable actions, for my misbehaviours, and I am sure I have told you this before, no one loved me the way that you do or did. Many would kill for a love like ours, I know that. And if I could live another life I would look for a love I had or have with you.
But despite all the realizations of us hitting the rock bottom, I am hanging on, I am holding into a thin branch hoping to God I can pull the both of us up. Help me pull us up and go back to square one where we thought that two perfectly flawed creatures can have a shot at happy ending, because I wouldn’t want myself to be with another person at that so called happy ending we once completely believed.