I didn’t talk to you all day that day. Excited. I was meeting him after a very long time. Shuffling through my rack, I found a pack of colored foam that you’d gifted me to make something for you with. I Picked up a box and neatly lined it with yellow foam from that pack. But it wasn’t for you. I shouldn’t have.
I was with him for 4 hours that day. Catching up on what he’d been doing these two years. You texted.
“Are you okay baby?”
I opened it, noticing I hadn’t replied to your earlier text hoping I’d have a good day. I locked my phone. I was having a good time, I didn’t need this guilt.
Hours later, mind occupied with the scariest thoughts. Did I want him back? Did he want it too? Was he taking a step back because of you? Did I have to break up with you? I needed to talk to someone. And everyone I know, would tell me what I didn’t want to hear. So I chose you. To talk to. I shouldn’t have.
I called. You didn’t answer. I didn’t realise, it was well past the time you slept everyday. I left you a text.
“Had a bit of a day, I’ll tell you about it.”
You woke up to it. You always wanted to wake up to kisses and I gave you this instead. For a minute there I forgot you were my boyfriend. I forgot that you’d be broken by the things I was about to tell you. My best friends had already advised me a billion times to not lose the one I have over something that may never be the same. I didn’t wanna hear that again. I knew you’d say something different.
You called. I told you that I met him last evening. I sensed you were upset but I went on. I told you I had a good time catching up for hours. I told you I missed him. I told you we still had a connect that I don’t see with us. I told you I spoke to him about things I’ve never told anyone before. I told you we had the deepest conversation and I haven’t had it with us. Knowing very well that you opened up to me about something in your childhood that was very personal. It must’ve killed you that I didn’t value it. But I didn’t stop. I told you how I still cared about him insanely, I was willing to take a bullet for someone I hadn’t seen in years. I told you that only he knows how to deal with my depression when it hits. I told you how I realized that I date to only check it off my list. I told you more than you could take. I shouldn’t have.
You asked me if I wanted to get back with him and I told you he didn’t want it. God. I shouldn’t have. I sensed that tear roll down your cheek.
“Do you see us together in the future?” You asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you see us together next year?”
“Do you?” I asked you back.
“Yes, and I’d do everything to get us there but you need to want it too. So do you, baby?”
“I don’t know” I said.
“I think 6 months is enough to know if you want to spend the next 6 months with a person right?” You said, the shiver in your voice distinct.
“I don’t know” I said again. I shouldn’t have.
We went on with our day after that phonecall. Mine filled with excitement over my last evening. Not once did I think about you. You must’ve been broken. How did you go about that day? Did you go to work? Were you able to work? I wonder now. Just the previous day we were the happiest couple around. Just till I decided to go meet him. Funny how much can change in 24 hours. I called you again that evening. You were drunk. You sounded so happy yet. We laughed and talked the entire hour. It surprised me how none of this affected you. I took comfort in your happiness. Something like “the surge” that sudden burst of energy before a critically ill person dies.
It seemed like we still worked and got past that phonecall. Or so I thought. We decided to meet the next day. We met every weekend. I was a little more excited to see you this weekend. Maybe because I’d get to talk to someone about him. I called you every 10 minutes till you came over. I was so glad that you took this so well. Until you came and I saw it different in your eyes.
Tears streaming, “we need to talk” you said. Going through each and every thing I mentioned over the call. It killed you that I didn’t feel about you the way I felt about him. I told you I was still in love with him while you were trying to tell me that you had fallen in love with me. I feel like a monster now, but then, I didn’t feel a thing.
I wondered if in anyway I had lead you on to fall in love with me. I asked you and you said no.
Then suddenly, many instances start hitting me like bullets. I asked you to move cities with me one evening when I surprised you with dinner plans. I held your hand and told you that I wanted you in my life. I told you I wanted to meet your brother when he came down. I told you I wanted to take your baby sister out with you. I made sure I met all the important people in your life and you in mine. I told everyone we came across about you and posted almost every picture we clicked on social media. Now that I think of it, was I just trying to show Him that I’ve moved on?
Was I leading you on with these? I wonder if I shouldn’t have.
I’m so confused myself. Did I date you and actually have feelings that would’ve lead to something if I hadn’t met him? Or did I just date you so I had someone whilst I pursued him? I’m a monster.
Still hugging you I felt the sting only when you let go. Looking Up with welled up eyes you said.
“Go pursue him baby. Give it your best shot. If it doesn’t work, please delete him from your life and move on before dating again.”
I felt relief amongst the pain. I could try winning him back now. But still unsure if I did the right thing letting you go. I didn’t know if I’d miss what we had when it’s gone. What if he doesn’t want me? I’d have lost both, you and his friendship. But it’d be selfish of me to keep you hanging whilst I pursued him. So I let go. I shouldn’t have.
Looking back at that day now, I’m extremely grateful to have dated you but I know you think
I Shouldn’t Have.
Disclaimer. Unless I start posts with “hey guys!” It’s most often not a direct post. And weirdly, I like writing from the other person’s view. Just to see what it must be like and because I really really hate being the victim.