I wrote this around 10.20 pm last night. I don’t know whether things have changed at all. I’ve woken up wishing our text message exchange had never happened. I know he wishes that too. How did things so complicated? It seems simple to me – I like him, he likes me. I feel sad but I’ll be ok.
I have been teetering on the edge of doubt and heartbreak for about 10 days. Sometimes there were several consecutive hours of utter happiness thrown in. I’d fallen deep in like. Very fast. And so had he, it seemed.
I never thought this blog would come to this. The kind of he loves me/he loves me not, he said/she said, lovefest teenage angst melodramatic shit that adults with their life together should refrain from expressing in public. I never wanted to write a post akin to, or titled from, an Alanis Morissette song. But today marks the day.
I’d had a crush for a while. Then as I got to know him better, I was in like. He was intriguing. Troubled yet intriguing. I like boys like that. I don’t know what draws me to these types. The types that mess with my head and still steal my heart.
I think the degree of like I felt was exacerbated because of our online/telephone/text contact. You know the deal. You build up this amazing idea of what someone is like because they say the right things. They say the wrong things too, and if they said these things to you in person, in real life, you’d probably see them for the arse they are but instead you are convinced they’ve got a good side because two hours into their last phone call, they said something that melted your heart. That was the deal.
I was ‘awesome to infinity.’ Maybe I still am?
I felt a deep sense of trust and comfort. The type I don’t find often. We talked for hours. We talked about the future. I liked his honesty, even if it had me scared sometimes. I put his self destructive nature out of my mind. I felt like I was on the cusp of a mature relationship.
Until a few hours ago I felt deep in like. Secure. Happy.
Now I am considering how to respond to the extremely long text message he’s sent me. The one that inferred it’s him, not me. The one before his apology. The one that read ‘I’m the sort of cunt who would break something off with a text message, like now.’
And all I can do to respond is write this blog entry. I don’t feel anger. I am sort of impressed with his honesty and ability to recognise his flaws and refrain from hurting me further. I just wish he realised the same sense of worth he’s helped to instill in me.
I guess I wanted to show him I’m worthy of him believing in himself. I saw so much good in him. Despite so much doubt.
I wonder if I would have hurt more if I felt love, not this deep sense of like? Because the hurt feels pretty bad now.