I don't know which is worse: the fact that you led me on or that I actually let you. You're not the one that got away because I'm not even sure that you actually wanted to stay. I'm not even sure if you were sure of what you were doing or sure of what you wanted. And the truth is that I knew this then, like I know this now. I knew you were confused, I knew you were internally going back and forth, trying to understand what you wanted, what you could practically do, and what was possible. I'm sure you also felt like you didn't know where I stood with all of this. But that's just the thing, isn't it? We felt one way yet acted like we didn't or were confused and unsure about what we felt. At the end of the day, it was a bunch of feelings we didn't know how to deal with. And I knew all of this then, like I know this now.
It's a shame that I let it go on for so long; that for the first time in a long time, I was willing to open up, to let someone in. I was willing to break past my insecurities and abandonment issues - despite it being really difficult for me, I was willing to fall. I wanted to go all-in. You made me feel safe enough to want that, even as my insides screamed at me to take the next exit. Even as my brain told me to put my walls back up again, to shut you out, to run and never look back because it was scary. It was scary how real it could be.
And yet the worst part of it all is that I'm still thinking about this, still trying to make sense of it, still wondering why.
- s.b.
















