You know, you are part of the reason I’m in the relationship I’m in now.
Okay, maybe that’s a stretch. There were far too many factors to give you that much credit.
You taught me a lesson, though. You had no clue. You didn’t know that our conversation was part of what started me on the path to where I am now.
It’s funny to think about it. The guy who was uncommitted taught me a real lesson about commitment.
You see, I hadn’t heard from you in over a month. We went from saying we still felt something for each other, to knowing it wouldn’t turn into something, to still finding a way to fall into each other again. Then one day, it just stopped. So when by chance we ran into each other downtown, when you asked me to take a walk, it wasn’t what I expected.
Here I was, walking with this guy who I had so desperately wanted things to work out with. We didn’t make a whole lot of sense, honestly. Yet something in you made me feel like I needed someone like you in my life. You were always relaxed, you had great taste in music, you were easy on the eyes, and you made me feel like I could be myself and still have a relationship. I gained my confidence back with you.
Yet it didn’t work, and I had learned to accept it. A commitment was a necessary thing, and though I was scared of it, I knew I needed it. I wasn’t going to get that from you.
I remember you telling me you were sorry for not talking to me much, that things kind of fell through, that our conversations were running out. You made the joke you probably would never settle down; that you were kind of scared of commitment.
I remember complaining to you some, about this guy. About how he was coming on so strong, how he wanted this commitment from me and was going above and beyond to get it. I told you it felt like it was too much. I told you things he had said and done, and finally, you spoke. “Dang. I feel I need to rip one of these flowers out, get on one knee and read you a poem to compete with that.”
“I would love to see that.” I laughed.
And it finally hit me. I was looking at you, wondering what it would be like if you did just what you said. Or if you pursued me, the way this guy was. I wanted someone to rip flowers out of the bushes and recite poems. I wanted someone to write a song about me. I wanted someone to look me in the eyes and tell me they loved me. Not because I needed grand gestures or attention from the world, but because I wanted someone to care for me that much that it would be shown in whatever they did. A love so strong that it called for something like that.
I was complaining about a guy coming on too strong when I was searching for a strong kind of love. I was complaining to the guy I would never get that kind of love from.
We went separate ways that night. I went back to my apartment. I pulled out my phone. I was ready to send you a message saying I enjoyed seeing you tonight. But I didn’t.
I typed his name into my phone instead. “Thank you, for what you’ve been doing. It means a lot.”
Thank you, for what you showed me that day. It meant a lot.