Because sometimes, it’s easier to write.
A sad love letter
So… There’s a storm in my heart. There’s a hurricane in my brain. I’m aware that we’re not on the same page for everything, and lately, I’ve been feeling a little more rejected than before.
At first, it was easy. I just had to keep my guard up and keeping you just far enough for me to function. I thought about you a lot, of course, but that is not a problem. I have intense and vivid emotions, I’m used to it, and this was not different than before. But then, you told me that I had too many walls. And… I already knew. But God was it comfortable. I didn’t want to be this vulnerable. You were not the one for me… I’m not saying that because of who you are. I wouldn’t say that you’re perfect to me because I’m not blind, but we are a good fit on so many levels. We just don’t have the same projects. That’s okay.
But I offered you something that I should have kept deep, buried under a lot of anxiety. You dug it up. And now I’m exactly where I didn’t want to be.
I’m stupidly and deeply in love with you. The more I get to know you, the deeper it gets. The more time I spend with you, the more I get attached.
I wouldn’t be this anxious if it went both ways, but unfortunately for me, it’s not the case. And because of that, some of my needs are not met. Some of my needs are opposite to yours. And those needs… I feel like I have to keep them for me, because it feels inappropriate. Right now, though, I need to share it, somewhere. I’ll probably tell you, because I can’t keep anything from you if you ask. I want to open myself completely, I want to share every emotions, every idea, everything. But I can’t. The loneliness is just too harmful, far more than my own silence.
But love is a violent energy. I have to release it sometimes, alcohol helps, I don’t need you to mirror it or anything, I just need to say it, sometimes.
Sometimes, my brain screams it. I love you. I LOVE YOU. I’m in your arms, and that’s all I can hear. We make love, I must bite my lips not to say it. That’s all I want to say. That’s all I want to show you. By my words, my touch, or any actions I can take. I want you to feel it, but again, that’s not how things are.
Here is what hurts me the most. It’s not the fact that you don’t love me back, it’s your need of solitude. You’re overwhelmed because of people; I’m overwhelmed by your absence. You’re stressed, anxious, I get it. I’m not asking for anything, otherwise I would have told you directly.
I wish I were a safe place for you, as much as you are for me.
Of course, things are not easy. Some of the things you did or told me keep spinning in my head. I don’t want to hope, I’m trying to repress so many feelings, it’s even clearer now that I’m writing it.
But at the same time, I want to hope, I want to shine as much as love makes me shine. I want it to be the same for you. I wish you were happy; I wish I could do something, anything to help you. But the only feeling that makes sense for me, when I listen to you, is that you are better left alone. You told me countless times that you could disappear easily, that you don’t miss people, that you know you’re not making the effort to see me, you just let me do it. And what should we prioritize? Your boundaries or my needs? Of course, the answer is not easy. I decided to wait and see. I decided to give you time, love and support.
Obviously, if you set boundaries, I'm going to respect it. I'm still learning to respect myself, to communicate my needs and wishes, and sometimes I have to ignore myself to keep you around (who said "red flag"?). It's hard to understand when you are being too rough or when I am being too much.
But I can't stop myself to think that you know that you’re not used to ask for what you want, and all I’ve seen you ask is to be left alone.
How can anything else make sense to me?
About the Creator
I love writing strange stories, with strange characters.
I'm french but I enjoy writing in english as well.
I hope you'll like my work :)
Struggling through a breakup at the moment, and this was so vivid (and thus, painful) for me to read. Thank you for your work. Your writing sparks real emotions.