I Still Want You To Care

I know we aren’t talking.

I know that the silence exists for both of us as we act like the other person doesn’t matter anymore. I am certain you aren’t talking to all your friends about me and I am trying to stop talking about you. Part of me feels like you must be thinking about this all the time also, but part of me thinks you are already over it. I want to just move on because I know I have to and I understand that we won’t be able to fix this. Every bone in my body aches knowing that it will always just be simple unfinished business.

When you came up to me I knew you cared and in that moment I felt a sense of relief. Power actually, as I put my foot down and showed you I didn’t care. I saw it hurt you and I saw that you cared. I slept easily that night knowing that no matter how hard you and I were trying, you had cracked. I refuse to crack. I won’t show you how badly it kills me to think of us being over. I saw the pain in your eyes knowing what once was yours was no longer yours. I felt good in that moment because I knew you cared, but that feeling only lasts so long.

The truth is… all I want is for you to care.

I spend so much time sitting and thinking about whether you have already filled the gap in your heart that once was me with someone new. I can try to reassure myself that you are just doing the same thing as me ‘acting’, but I second guess whether you hurt like I do. I say to myself, “If he cared he would reach out,” then I remember that I am not reaching out either.

You did come up to me, but then I second guess that too. I want to know if you care. The hardest part is sitting here knowing I care so much and thinking that we are both fighting this. A part of me knows deep down that you feel the same, but a part of me also second guesses everything because of your silence. A part of me knows we made a mistake, but a part of me thinks you didn’t think it was one. A part of me knows that you are talking to someone else and assuming I am too, but a part of me wonders if you know I wish it was you.

I want to let you go and sometimes for a few brief seconds I believe, “that what’s mean’t for me will be.” I know my friends tell me you weren’t good enough and they truly believe it, I truly believe it too, but I still want you.