Why I Can’t Talk To The Person Who Knows Me Best

I need to tell you that I’m not okay, but I haven’t said anything to you in five months. I need to tell you that my brother is sick, that I’m working two jobs, that I’m not sure where my life is heading, and that I constantly feel like I’m drowning.

I could argue that you don’t know me anymore. You don’t know that it took me ten days to drive across the country or that I drank seven cups of coffee during my one day in Seattle. You don’t know that I walk to work in Los Angeles and that I haven’t talked to my parents in a month; you don’t know that every Sunday I go to what used to be our favorite cafe for hangover breakfast sandwiches and that my heart stops every time the door opens while I’m there because I think it might be you. You don’t know that I have a tattoo on my wrist; you don’t know that I ran a half-marathon; you don’t know that my hair is past my shoulders and that I’ve lost 10 pounds; and you don’t know that I feel broken. Again. You don’t know that I wake up at 5:30 every morning for work; you don’t know that I don’t eat meat anymore or that I still go to yoga booty ballet every Monday. You don’t know that most nights I cry myself to sleep and you don’t know that most mornings I wake up feeling numb. You don’t know that I work on a PC at the office, on a Mac at home, and feel like a gerbil constantly running on one of those cage wheels. You don’t know these things because five months ago I walked away and you didn’t chase after me. You didn’t chase after me because I told you not to. You didn’t call. You didn’t write. And, apparently, we made a mutual decision to stop talking at all.

Because we decided this, and because you now don’t know any of those things about me, it’s transpired that I probably don’t know things about you, either. I don’t know if you’re still killing yourself working crazy hours; I don’t know how your month-long trip to India went; and I don’t know how many haircuts you’ve had, and if any of them have made you look as stupid as that one last December did. I don’t know how you celebrated your birthday last week; I don’t know where you’ll be on Thanksgiving; and I don’t know your reaction to this season of Modern Family. I don’t know if you’ve kept up running or if you just did it to compete with me; I don’t know if your room has any more furniture in it or if you’ve embarked on your dream of surviving by freelancing; and I don’t know how often you go to our favorite cafe for hangover breakfast sandwiches, or if your heart stops every time the door opens. I don’t know how your sister is, and if she’s pregnant; I don’t know how your mother is and if your father is still recovering from surgery; I don’t know if anyone else has slept in your bed with you and wondered why you have to have the shades closed but the windows open at night. I don’t know if you think about me; I don’t know if your coffee order has changed or if you still stay up composing songs and pretending it’s not a big deal; I don’t know if you’re dating or celibate or engaged; and I don’t know if you’ve kept track of how many days it’s been since we last talked.

I want to talk to you. I want you to hear all about everything. I want to tell you that it’s been 164 days since we last talked and I want to hear you say that you know, that you’ve been counting, too. You’re the first person I feel like calling when something silly happens and the only person I know that would understand why I’m pushing myself to not talk to you. I could argue that you don’t know me anymore. But I know that you do, and that is why I still can’t talk to you. TC mark

image – Bala


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  • Meiming

    This is perfect. Thank you for writing this.

  • cee_ryy

    this is pretty beautiful

  • http://twitter.com/tbarrios47 Tanya Barrios

    Beautifully written. Thank you for capturing it

  • Sam

    This is especially refreshing because there are people I haven’t talked to in 164 days, but I just check their Facebook and I know more than I need to about their life. I guess it has it’s ups and downs, but I miss wondering.

  • Caseyanns

    this makes me sad.

  • samantha

    this reads like a dramatically-written diary entry. it doesn’t float my boat and I don’t find it very compelling, but I guess I’m in the minority here.

  • Anonymous

    Hear, hear.

  • http://twitter.com/mungofrench kdub

    i feel this.  you’ve nailed something so perfectly.  thank you.

  • http://jennbenn18.wordpress.com JennBenn18

    Yes.  Yes. And Yes.

  • http://twitter.com/70zChild C. S. Baker

    Life is too short. Call them! o.O

  • SS

    This is perfect. I went fourteen months without speaking to the person I know best and this is how I felt EVERY SINGLE DAY. We saw each other for the first time in fourteen months yesterday after I sent him a drunk Facebook message and it made everything so much more bearable.

    Not that I’m advocating drunk Facebooking, but….

  • Sheergloss


  • xra

    wtf is with the chorus of people who say these things are beautiful when all the writer did was hit all the “right” emotional touchstones

    i mean i know you relate and all, but like a commenter below me said, this is cliche city and doesn’t really put a new spin on an incredibly familiar “i broke up w/ this dude but i still kinda miss him” story. It is, however, all SWPL’d up with references to vegetarianism and yoga and freelancing to really make the target audience go “omgshe’sjustlikeme”

    • douchegirl


  • The fuck's sake

    for fuck’s sake. swallow ur fuckin ego up and go the fuck talk to him. don’t be ashamed to fuckin need other damn fuckin people. talk to him. stop torturing your pterodactylofucking self.

  • John

    Show us what he/she does.  Use the doll if you want.

  • http://www.facebook.com/people/Steven-Timberman/922794 Steven Timberman

    You’ve just inspired me to do something. Cheers for the wake up call!

  • Scarlett

    do you miss me too?

  • http://www.facebook.com/nattusmith Natt Smith

    Losing love hurts more than oral surgery, but suck it up.  Either deal with the pain or go have that sucker removed.  

  • L.

    This post is written through an entirely self-centered lens. I hope for his sake that he’s not counting; sounds like he’s better off without you.

    • STFU

      That was a really deuchey thing to say. Maybe you are just void of feelings and/or personal interaction with other people with feelings but clearly she is someone who has tried to get on with her life, but is still hurting.  I think it was beautifully written.  Maybe it is told through a “self-centered lens” but its her experience, so it should be.  And to everyone else negative about this piece, its not like her life has stopped and she is wallowing in self-pity. We have all been here at least once in our life before, so have some friggen compassion. We do not know the story, maybe he did something she cannot forgive and that’s why she hasn’t talked to him, even though she wants to.  

      • SaraH

        I think you are both being “deuchey” because you don’t realize that there are two sides to every story and each of you is only looking at one side. Not only that, but you can’t even see the entire side of the story that you’re defending. Ergo, you’re both dumbasses.

      • STFU AGAIN

        Hi psycho, back again? Great. I’m not trying to restrict your “freedom of speech rights” but you really need to get over yourself. He said something hurtful, I was defending her as a human being, not her story. But you obviously couldn’t see that because you were too busy  trolling Thought Catalog trying to piss people off by writing heinous things and then liking your own comment for good measure. 

  • Guest

    After reading the whole thing, I still don’t know why you can’t talk to this person. All I know is what you don’t know about this person anymore. Misleading title there…

  • http://theholylance.com Nick Cox

    This is beautiful but seriously, just call him. Or just write him a letter. He’ll be happy to hear from you and it doesn’t have to be a big deal. And if you do, write another piece about how it went.

  • Hh

    After nine years, my best friend – whom I mistakenly (?) thought was the love of my life – and I have now gone almost 75 days without speaking. I don’t think this is too cliche and I don’t think you’re milking this, because I know I’m not (I am high-functioning and happy, damnit), and this is exactly how I feel.

  • Anonymous

    Thank you for writing this, and I know exactly how you feel. Or maybe I don’t. I know that he doesn’t count days, I know that he moves on easily and I hate it when he so ignorantly says, “Oh, Im not good with numbers nor dates.”

  • LazyReader

    After nearly 8 years with my ex, we stopped talking completely when he moved out (July 2009).  It was the worst.  Waking up in the middle of the night feeling so alone. The littlest things could trigger the deepest lonliness. He was from Boston (still is, I guess).  When Ted Kennedy died I wanted to talk to him about it.  I wondered who he was talking about this with.
    I don’t feel this way anymore. What helped? Friends.  New friends.  Old friends.  Stronger friends. And time.

  • SaraH

    I’m sorry, I know this is supposed to be all emotional and stuff, but I could not finish reading it. I got halfway through the “You don’t know” paragraph before I felt like never hearing those three words again. And then the next was “I don’t know.” I mean, come on, if every sentence in two paragraphs straight begins with the same phase, it cannot be considered “beautifully written.” I’m sure it’s very touching. You get an A for emotion. Just work on the writing skills if you want to improve as a writer. Be less repetitive.

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