He Controlled Me, But I Would Never Be His

It’s not entirely anything I can explain. It was something about him that possessed some wave of control over my mind. He wasn’t the kind of guy who had everything I was looking for, he was missing almost all the checks and balances, he didn’t make me laugh, he always made me anxious, but when he looked at me I felt him sear into my soul, I loved it. I knew I wasn’t going to end up with him even before our first kiss, but when I was with him it felt right. He wasn’t the type of person I wanted to share memories with, but he controlled my feelings anyways. I didn’t have a choice. I knew he would mean something to me the minute I met him.

He had a general sadness about him, which I was never able to fully explain to friends or family, nor did I try to. It was the kind of sadness that was only explained by watching a pure heart turn black. He would stop himself before he felt. I could feel his anxiety and his sleep insomnia while he lay next to me. He had a general depressed disposition. He was the kind of person who could love very deeply, but wouldn’t allow himself to. I am not entirely certain we were ever meant to begin, but I am also not certain we were ever meant to end.

He said his favorite band was Fleetwood Mac, just like my own. I didn’t believe him. He didn’t truly love music. I was surprised by this. His type seemed to be that of the musical sort, possibly was the most perplexing of it all. On the surface he just was a normal, hot guy, who loved sports and had good style. He was quiet and you could probably go most of your life knowing he existed without ever knowing his name. He wasn’t the life of the party and often seemed as though being at the party pained him. The type of guy who wouldn’t really dare to make much of a move, more than just a moderate gesture of attraction. He existed in the shadows, but I saw him.

He was the kind of guy you would never trust. Maybe I have trust issues, but I knew he did too. We started fast and I didn’t care because I couldn’t stop myself. At first I didn’t care. I let him court me. He talked to me about the darkest things in our lives and I felt that he understood my sadness, not that he cared, but simply that he felt it. His eyes were so dark I couldn’t figure him out, but I felt his attraction to me. I was always anxious thinking about him. Anxiously awaiting whatever was next, not because I needed him, but because I felt our inevitable end at all moments.

I didn’t want to bring his darkness into my life, but I didn’t stop it. It was passionate, but not the kind I needed. I knew we wouldn’t ever become anything, I wouldn’t let us, but still his words trickled into my brain and began to control my thoughts.
The words were genuine. I didn’t expect them. I had no expectations, just attraction.


He told me he liked me. He told me he would miss me. He held my hand…I don’t hold hands. I don’t do kisses goodbye. I have weird things I won’t do. For some reason I allowed these things to occur. I knew we mutually didn’t want something serious, so I let the pressure dissipate. I felt like the hurt wasn’t coming yet. Not quite yet. He spoke to future events. I second guessed everything anyways. I guarded my heart, but I couldn’t protect myself from the way he drove me crazy.

His friends would say things and I wouldn’t listen. Boys seem to say stupid things. “You two are being idiots. You both like each other, why don’t you just date?” I didn’t want to date him. He had too much control over me. I never wanted to be his, if I was his, his sadness would consume me. I could feel it consuming me already, but I also didn’t want it to end.

He never spoke to his mom, he called her his mother. He wasn’t ambitious and it didn’t seem to matter because I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I didn’t mention to friends or family that he held no job, it wasn’t important. I knew what he was and it needed no covering up. He was like a thunderstorm and I craved the rain. I wanted the lightning and wind to whip my hair around, but only so I could return to a fall day.

We ended through silence. I am not sure what bit of the ending I cared about or if I truly ever cared at all. I knew it would happen. We could never be. Maybe the part that made me care was that sometimes we simply cannot stop ourselves from things our heart wants, but head doesn’t. His soul was black. I knew that, but I didn’t stop myself. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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