The tears I should have shed to mourn for my dignity and for the sake of your sanctity, for the things I said, and for the things I wished I said, to imply that you should choose me. I did go down that road, and I am sorry. I am terribly sorry for even crossing the line to attempt to spin your mind into thinking about me instead of her, to have you believe that I am the one for you instead of she. You have entranced me to believe that I do this for you and only you, which isn’t the case. And it hurts because as much as I try to take you in small doses, I take you in wholly, and I am overwhelmed with my sudden choice to do so.
You know for sure that I have promised to write about this once, in an attempt to forget about these feelings I hold for you, the feelings I long to be rid of, the feelings I should not have felt in the first place. But who can choose not to feel for those eyes, the way you carry yourself, and the way you view the world through your eyes. I like you because I see you as a better part of me, the one I should have been like long ago, and the one I should have chosen to be like all these years. I have been shaken to the core because of you, but isn’t that what everyone wants? To have someone in their life to be like the person they could have been? Hell, if I have already achieved something in your nature, I would have fallen out of the hole of emptiness far long ago. But I didn’t, and I am enraptured, weak, and dissonant.
This whole thing about you has collected a lot of debris: questions I’d love to ask, answers I’d love to have, and what-ifs I’d like to experiment with. If you had me, what would it be like? Would I have gone beyond all the infatuation and really, really love you for who you are? I do. At least I think I do, and yet I know that you cannot and will not belong to me. Ever. That’s a done deal. And here I am still grappling with the fact that I could be, I still could be. We’re young, right? There’s no time like now, and it should be great, and yet I choose to mourn over the fact that I cannot spend tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the next day with someone I would have wanted to be like, someone who could make me better.
But I could see in your eyes that you only have them for her, and I swear on my life that it will stay that way. I swear on my life that you don’t have to choose her over me because I know you won’t. I swear on my life not to ask anything beyond my moral sense to weaken you in any way possible. It may be difficult for me but I have to struggle in order to finally let you go, and see you as an equal instead of having you staring back at me from the top. Someday, we will laugh at this and wonder why I chose to let you go, but for now it still hurts. It still hurts because it’s all on me, and I am alone in this.
I am alone in this.
I have counted to 2 as I repeat the promises I have made here and in the previous. I have one last shot at grappling and holding onto you, trying to make sense of the choices I have made, and the feelings I have shared before I finally release you and let you go. In times of trouble, I know this is the best solution, and it may hurt, but again, it’s all on me.