I seem to be waiting on a wish…
Taken by me.
I don’t mean to be, but it looks like that is what has happened. I’d tried to convince myself that he didn’t care and he has ruined my illusion with his likely meaningless message.
A stupid part of me is half-expecting him to turn up somewhere with my heart in his hands. The logical part of me says this will never happen, that he never loved me and that I should have stuck with my original fear. ‘Cause yeah…
I’ll wholly admit that I was terrified when I realised I had feelings for him. I knew before I admitted it to myself. A hell of a long time before.
But I was terrified he’d hurt me.
No need to be afraid of that any more, I guess. And I’ve gotten over feeling scared of how intensely I feel, because there’s no real reason to be afraid of that any more. It just is. And now it’s not going to hurt anyone except me.
I didn’t want to ruin a friendship. I didn’t want to hurt his ex. I didn’t want to fall for him for fear of hurting either of us.
This is me speaking completely candidly, in case you hadn’t guessed. Let’s get it all off our chests.
I knew the day of the festival.
Do you remember in the summer that we went to a festival? A traction rally. They were playing on the stage there and I was going as friend and camera girl. And I knew that day how I felt, but for fear I pushed it aside, told myself I couldn’t.
I realised I was acting too comfortably with him… I hadn’t noticed until then how easy we were together. I’d slipped into it without realising… and it kind of terrified me. Even worse? When I was asked by someone if we were together, a small part wanted to say yes.
So I explained that away to myself. It was natural. After everything the previous months it was just that I liked the attention, that I wanted to be wanted. That had to be it.
And I told myself the same thing later on when he flirted with this silly girl to impress his friends/make them jealous. I told myself I only felt jealous because he’d been giving me so much attention. I told myself it was just my lonely pocket of self-worth vomiting on my parade… but deep down I knew it wasn’t.
All along I was terrified that I was falling for him… that I loved him… this messed up boy with all his issues, his cancerous stress and his unreal eyes…
Yeah… I know what I sound like…
Anyway, so I fell for him and wouldn’t admit it to myself. I couldn’t admit it. If I did I was breaking a friend’s (his ex) trust, because I’d said he and I were only friends and that’s all I’d intended it to be. Then there was the idea that all this flirting was just that I was like all the other girls he’d craved attention from and that maybe he truly had loved his ex and that maybe I was just the rebound girl. And not to mention our friendship.
I’m a separate being. I’m cut off somehow, but here was this friend that I felt more in tune with than I ever had before. Less secluded. And I didn’t want to lose that with this silly notion that I cared for him more than I was supposed to care for a friend…
So yeah… It took me a long time to admit to myself exactly how I was feeling.
Because I couldn’t lie to myself forever. Not only am I a terrible liar, but I think it’s a crime to deny your own true heart.
And so I knew, finally, that if he ever actually made a move… I’d be his. I already was his. He just didn’t really know it.
So that concludes my story for today. That tells you how I was so terrified of hurting people that I didn’t want to admit my true feelings to myself, let alone anyone else.
So if he has done it for the reasons I suspect, then he should realise that I understand all his fears… but that he needs to be brave sooner or later because he can’t deny his true self forever. And he shouldn’t have to.
No one should.
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