Letters to My Love

Part 3

I’m not a fan of the letter I wrote last night. It was merely an attempt to organize my thoughts. It was a blackboard for me to project my hurt. To tame the overwhelming tornado of Shayla. I wanted to rewrite it, edit the syntax, the stylistic writing, but thought no; that was an expression of my raw emotion. It exists as a true representation of my mental state from last night. Honestly, I used to be so indifferent to hurt. I wasn’t in tune with how I felt. I was extremely removed from my inter and intra-personal experiences. I felt hallowed out, and I still do, emotionally. But physically, I’m filled with tears.

Ever since I allowed myself to feel, ever since I allowed myself to know sadness, I’ve been on the front line of cry-ers. I cry all the time. I cried myself to sleep Monday night from a heartbreak by the words of my brother, and last night I cried due to the heart break left by the reality of what ‘this’ is to you. This morning, I cried briefly in the shower. Then during mid-afternoon sushi, and the walk back from the square. I try not feeling shame with my tears but remind myself that the tears are relieving the weight in my heart. I’m surprised that I haven’t hit a drought. I know the biggest influence behind my waterfall of tears is the fact that I am so uncertain about how I feel. I consider so many aspects, that I find truth in them all, but I don’t find the truth for me. I’ve considered changing my flight, so I’d skip the depart here, and pick up at my connecting flight. I’d thank the Air BnB hostess for her hospitality, and I’d take a bus or train to my friend’s until Friday night. I came here to visit you, in all truth, and now I feel trapped. I feel like I’m in an unknown city, alone and at least at my friend’s, I’d feel comfortable walking to the galleries downtown, and I can be comforted by my best friend. Honestly, I don’t know how to exist here until Friday evening.

I still don’t know if I can be friends with you, because I don’t know how to be friends with anyone (except my best childhood friend). The loneliness I constantly feel sucks, but not enough for me to learn how to comfortably introduce people into my life. I’d rather spend that time focusing on my career, my dreams and my art. Those aspects of my autonomy are manifestations that I’m ok experiencing change with. I’m ok with my dreams transforming and alternating into new ones. I’m not ok with the changes that occur in human interactions. I’d rather keep those at arm’s length. 

Ironically, you are pushing me away, from intimacy to friendship, to avoid breaking my heart, whereas I’ll probably push you from friendship to a thought that circulates my mind every now and then and that’s followed occasionally by a few tears that run down my cheek.

Although I want to remove myself from this place, I don’t want to skip a chance to talk things over with you. I don’t want to shut down. I don’t want to lose. Although I don’t expect anything to continue, I’m not sure how ‘this’ can continue. I honestly do love you. It sucks that I won’t have the relationship to fully live and express that love. Even if I don’t know how to confidently go about this revelation, all I know is my hurt, and it suck.  

I’ve been hurt, more times than I can count on both hands, and it leaves me wondering how that interaction was even worth experiencing. I often begin to wish that I never encountered those people, and I started to wish that I never thought twice about continuing the conversation after you complimented my Instagram art. I wish I would’ve just accepted the compliment and stopped messaging. I wish that I approached our first meetup just as coffee. I wish I never considered driving around town with you. I wish I would’ve passed the invite to chill at yours. I wish I did walk out of your apartment as you showered and I sat on your bed triggered, thinking about the mentions of you getting back together with a girl back home. I began wishing I never met you. I began to wonder how long you knew your words would go from ‘I would like this to continue’ to ‘this is just a friendship’. I wondered how you were thinking this would play out; me flying here to see you. I wondered what you were thinking would happen after you played the friendship card but kissed me before going to study and leaving me to think things over. Overall, I do believe that you are spectacular regardless of how this played out. In the end, I think I’ve learned to be honest with myself, even if it took writing it out. I am happy to have met you. I do believe that you are worth meeting. I just wish ‘this’ could continue differently.  

I mentioned before arriving here that there was two things that I’d like to do. The first was to visit an art gallery, and the second was to try the food at the Ikea restaurant. We did the art gallery yesterday, and so you offered to swing by around 7 for late-night dinner at IKEA. Since I was aware that you were pressed for time, and didn’t want to take away from studying, I said I would rather continue our conversation from last night. You arrived shortly before 8 with a large McDonald’s fries and smoothie. I think this was a gesture influenced by your need to take care of me, but I said I hadn’t really had an appetite. I put the food on the desk in the Airbnb room and walked over to sit on the bed with you. Immediately I said that I’m probably going to cry but said that I wrote a few letters explaining what I’ve been feeling the past 24 hours. You asked if it was okay if you read it, and I said it would probably be easier if you did. You said that it  hurt reading “not until I can accept coming all the way here for ‘this’” and afterwards you asked if I still wanted to be friends. I mentioned that I have a hard time with friendships. I explained that usually I approach romantic interests as ‘All or Nothing’. Except this was a case where I want it all, but refuse to leave with nothing, and so I’d be willing to learn how to be friends.

Yours truly,

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