Vulnerable post. I guess I needed to write this down and vent.
I always wanted to give somebody else the level of love and care that only a romantic relationship allows. That has been my biggest dream. Bigger than any career I could have, even bigger than traveling the world (it was, at least, more realistic than traveling the entire world). Until very recently I truly believed that loving was the thing I did best, and that I would really shine when I get a chance to share that kind of reciprocate love with someone. I am not exaggerating here. I suck at school, I'm awful at sports, I'm not good at anything, so in this one thing that I always wished to do and fantasized about I surely must be good, right?
So because of a miracle, or whatever, one person was allowing me to love him in such a way. He liked me, and after a while was in love with me, and was ready to have a committed relationship. And I took the chance, believing I was in love too. But that lasted about... 5 days, until I realized that I did not really like him. We had good moments and chemistry, but I did not feel for him what I knew was necessary for a relationship of that kind. And yet I had developed an extremely strong attachment and was giving my love to this person, who was such a good and understanding partner. But I could not stand lying and even then I knew deep down that something was wrong.
Then the hardest part came. We spent New Year's together, with his family, knowing we would not be together anymore, but pretending to be happy, and dancing (man he looks so passionate and happy and good when he dances). These have been some of the hardest two weeks I can remember. I am still thinking about my actions every single living hour, and I am glad to be talking again as friends, because we both wanted to remain as such. The thought of him broken hearted and crying in his bed still haunts me. Every morning I wake up and get a feeling of guilt in my gut. I have to stay in bed for a good extra time repeating words in an effort to calm myself, and when I have the energy to leave my bed, I never want to eat because I am never hungry. The truth is I hurt a good person that I cared about and loved, when I could have saved us the misery by stopping dating some weeks before, and that is something I have yet to forgive myself for.
One last thing: this is a new theory that I built today. It's based on the premise that I did not love him because he was a loving soul that made me feel love and sympathy, but because I was desperately seeking for attachment. I refuse to believe this is entirely true, I refuse to be that cynical. I know I loved many things about his personality. I still have some pics where he looks really handsome.
Anyway, I need to stop over thinking now, or at least try. I'm mourning a relationship and that's it.
