to love for the hope of it all

december brings its own unique type of melancholy and sadness. it’s both a reflection of the year past, and a strange comparison to how it has been in years past. the month makes me contemplate just how much i’ve changed over time, while also bitterly reminding me of what i’ve lost: time, people, opportunities.

i wonder who is to blame for my desire to distance myself from a.b.s.. while the easy answer may be him, my brain has an extraordinary way of self-sabotaging and running away when things get too difficult (something i don’t usually struggle with when it comes to him).

i think having two weekends in a row where he admits to thinking of others, this close to the time of year he hurt me last year, was perhaps a lil too much for my brain and heart to handle.

my proclamations of good faith, that “i’m flesh and blood, in front of you, and i care about you, if you’ll let me” and “i don’t want to give up on you, so stop asking me to” echo in my head. i know without a doubt that i mean every single word that comes out of my mouth directed at him, and these are no exceptions. i just also worry how much longer he’ll push me away. how many more times i’ll be sat next to him wondering if he’s thinking of someone else. how many more times i’ll pretend it doesn’t affect me to my core and forgive him. how many more times he’ll hurt me.

i’m not even sure he remembers that i’ve told him any of these things. or that he remembers telling me that maybe he didn’t realise he was pushing me away or hurting me. i think there may fundamentally lie the issue: he doesn’t care to understand me; not really. for a man who i believed so values my opinions on serious topics, or occasionally on life even; i start to wonder how much of him i’ve made up in my head.

i talk about being an idea in his if we were no longer in each other’s lives, but i don’t even want to think about how i view him. i still view him as someone who would not purposefully hurt me, even though he has time and time again. with great anguish, i think (expressed to me once in a bewildering moment of ‘weakness’), but done repeatedly anyway.

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i don’t know if i’m just overly tired today, and thus my brain starts to find issues where they do not really exist (or at the very least, analyse things that i’d rather not); or if i’m finally hitting a wall. if i’ve done and given too much for it to no longer be reciprocated, and i’m just sick of it. the reality is that even if i do feel that way, once word from him, or a glimpse of him will make that disappear – perhaps i’m the one with no self-control between the two of us. i’m the one who can’t help myself. (maybe we just have that in common)

hearing that he thought something would have happened between us even if i hadn’t pursued him leaves me with mixed feelings: on the one hand, i love thinking that even he knows that at some point, there was bound (or meant) to be something between us; that we were inevitable; where i’m confused about is whether or not i’m meant to trust that sentiment and take it as gospel. (i really shouldn’t be taking anything that comes out of a man’s mouth as gospel, but i fear we may be past that point right now).

these are the ramblings of a very tired woman. too many thoughts swimming in her head to make sense of any of it. as my realities of my life come crashing down on me (moving, education, family responsibilities…) accompanied by unpleasant feelings (namely, shame.); i wonder if a.b.s. is losing his boyish charm due to the way he treats me, or if i’m looking for a reason to go into hiding again. i think it’ll be best to let time show his intentions and what he’s capable of doing rather than making assumptions. i just hope it isn’t too late by the time he does; for both of our sakes. we’ll both be left wondering what could of been, i another ghost in his life that he regrets after a few drinks, he the materialisation of my darkest ‘could have been’ that lingers no matter what. i don’t care to find out what that would feel like again. not with him. so i guess i just wish he’d stop forcing us there.

as it’s nearing 1 am, i know it best to get some rest. i always feel better in the morning, and i’ve got an entire flat just waiting to be shoved into boxes and moved next week (unfortunate reminder of the handful of texts or emails i’m currently ignoring because i don’t want to deal with them, ultimately making me feel worse than if i just responded). i hope he’s getting some rest, he deserves it. as do i.