Because one second we were fine. But I know relationships well enough, to know to manage my expectations. I know at any moment, things could change, in me doing nothing at all. It’s like one day you just wake up and decide you’re over this. You don’t want to continue. And that’d be fine. Everyone has the right to their opinion. And if I said or did something off putting or repulsive I can say sorry but I can’t take it back.
But the truth is I’m not sorry.
And the truth is you aren’t actually letting me go. That’d be too easy.
You keep me close enough because you want to keep tabs on me. You want to know someone cares for you even when you can’t reciprocate it.
I found when things kind-of-sort-of-end, there’s no reviving it. I say kind-of-sort-of because I find myself saying, it can’t really end because nothing really began.
But here I am with all these leftover emotions of confusion because it hasn’t ended yet.
You still keep on every edge. You’re the first to look at every snapstory but ignore every text.
You’re every call late at night just to ensure I answer or maybe you just want to find comfort in knowing you aren’t the only one going to bed alone.
You type words only to delete them because you know I’m watching.
And we make plans and I realize the only thing I can rely on, with you, is cancelled plans and this idea of us that will never be reality.
Because everything you said sounded so nice. I looked into your eyes and I thought I saw sincerity. I thought I saw something real. I thought I could fall and you’d be the first to catch me.
But I found myself falling and you only grew more distant.
But you still kept me close enough. Close enough to make me jealous.
But unlike you I don’t play the jealousy game. I won’t send you a picture of a guy just so it ruins your night.
I don’t advertise my conquests. But if I did you’d know I slept with someone a day after you left. If I advertised my conquests you’d see my bed was never one in which I slept in alone.
If I advertised everything entirely and every real moment, you got to see, as if you were a bug on the wall, what you would really see, is me looking at my phone wondering why you haven’t answered. What you’d really see is me analyzing every detail wondering how we even got here. What you’d really see is for the first time in a while, I let someone close enough to hurt me and you did. And it takes everything in me not to suckered back into this game you’re playing. I remind myself I’m better than someone who gains self worth out of causing people pain.
And I know what you’re doing. I know you’re game. I know you’re playing me. I know you know, you hurt me. It’s a silence that screams. It’s the kind-of-sort-of caring that leaves me empty.
But I’m not gonna sit here and continue running over details of where I went wrong.
Because if caring and showing is a flaw than flawless is the last thing I want to be. If being honest is something that turns you off, than the last thing I want to be is a liar. And if admitting something is there between us because I know you felt it too, if that makes me crazy than it’s you that is nuts for taking off. It’s you that’s crazy for trying to deceive someone who would never do the same.