To The Guy I Haven’t Forgotten Just Yet

Why haven’t I quit you?

I don’t really know you, I don’t know really how you’re really doing, I don’t know at all if you even think about me and why you may have stopped in the first place. Perhaps I was overly hopeful and now overdramatic. My draw to you started to become overshadowed by an assumption that you looked down on our differences. I freaked out, deleted your number — accidentally on purpose.

If you were a drug, my prescription was cancelled over two months ago. I put myself on a vulnerable trial not fully aware of the side effects. I’ve sustained my otherwise strong and balanced self. But our relationship remains unresolved; further research is needed.

I like to think I have rejected the opposite sex fairly, within reason. But life for the most part is not fair and in the matters of the heart, most always uneven. In this case, you didn’t just ghost, you haunted me again with a single message – was it sent out of guilt? Or curiosity? Am I speaking Venetian? You see, I was done thinking. Then I talked about it and frustration reappeared. So did all these signs, certain words and images from the universe linking me in a one-way direction to you, appearing in my dreams. A real plane flew by and I hoped it meant you were coming to me, not flying away. Then I tried to deny it but figured to just let it out and even sent light and love your way – for your happiness’ sake.

I stumbled upon a magazine one day that was another reminder of your mind – advising me that new memories can replace old ones. Just so happened I started spending time with a wonderful man who was explorative and expressive, that saw more beautiful sides of me I wish I had exposed before. This arrangement mutually ended on good terms.

I guess it’s the “I don’t know” part. You and I had only been seeing each other, with not enough intimacy. Do I sound crazy if I say I’d be understanding if I heard from you directly? Perhaps you’re afraid of my reaction if we saw each other in the flesh again but why do I feel that it was your fear of really feeling that opted you out in the first place?

A part of me feels like reaching out again, positively. I tell myself I have no fear of rejection, more-so regret. But you were not the only guy occupying my mind – there was another before you, someone I thought about more consciously, who was at least honest about unavailability. Believable. Unlike any remnants of us – I don’t know if the embers are too charred or if there’s enough for a second spark. I guess you’d have to tell me, no?