I'm painfully aware that for years to come, I'll be looking for you in every boy that I pursue. Because sometimes, I swear, when something reminds me of you I can relive a moment and smile as I remember the happiest I've ever been.
Two weeks from now would have marked our two year anniversary. Had things not gone the way they did, as I never imagined they would, I'd feverishly be trying to plan something. Desperately praying that the countless hours I invested in the relationship would pay off, and he'd finally decide that I was worth an effort. And therein lies the entirety of our relationship. Me, ignorantly convinced that this could be the one. Him, blissfully devoid of emotion and unable and unwilling to commit.
So here I am. Today, like every day over the past three months, relentlessly assailed by the unpleasant memories that come strongly and without notice. Some are less unpleasant than others. Some resemble what I remember as happiness and love. Those are, usually shortly after, accompanied by a inexplicable sense of forlorn and an emptiness in the cavity that should be host to my heart. I prefer to silence those ones. But all the time the same, a new memory. A different day, a different laugh, different words. Each one flutters around in my brain for some time and then leaves. Never to be thought of again. So far, aside from the milestones in our relationship, I haven't thought of the same one again.
I think this is my way of dealing with things. I don't think I'll be satisfied unless I've analyzed every aspect of our relationship. Every minute of our time together. Every look he ever gave me. Every smile or touch of validation I craved and never received. Every time he came home drunk, passed out, forgot about me. There's an answer in all of these pieces. An answer to the unremitting question, "Why wasn't I good enough?" Unfortunately all I find when I scrutinize the minute details of us, is a vulnerable girl giving all of herself to a boy who wasn't ready. A girl who sometimes cried when he seemed distant, or when she thought about life without him. A girl who made dinners, desserts, gave massages, wrote papers, edited papers, let him go out with his friends, never got jealous, tried her best to be rational and understanding. A girl who never even dreamed of being with anybody else. So the truth is, no I don't think I did anything wrong. And yes, it was probably unwise to become so emotionally invested in somebody who was so emotionally detached and content with being alone.
So I'll let time do it's job. What he did hurt beyond any words I can put together to describe it, so I can't rush it. But one day, when I'm ready, I'll find the person I deserve to be with. And because I refuse to believe that everything I saw in Ryan was a lie, I hope they share a lot of the same qualities I found in him: self-sufficient, resilient, brave, warm, honest.
But I also hope they are nothing like him at the same time, because he is: incredibly self involved, terrified of commitment, callous, hot and cold and in between and terribly inconsistent, and blind. Obviously. Because if he couldn't see what an amazing thing he had right in front of him, he should get his eyes checked.
His loss.
