I’m afraid things won’t be okay between us. There is really no reason for feeling this way, yet I do. The braveness that I once felt with her has now settled into a pit of uncertainty that grasps tighter and tighter, much like my grip on her in every attempt to evade the inevitable. The sobering truth that I’ve learned from this is that fairytale romanticism isn’t the right way to handle things. They’ve always told you to fight for what you love with everything you have and fight harder when you’re feeling drained. I’m aware of my fault with this and I should’ve trusted her when she said she needed space. Yet, here we are.
I can’t take back my mistakes nor can I dwell on them-- but that’s unlike me, isn’t it? Much is known of my ability to replay a situation in my mind over and over again and dissect everything that I’ve done wrong with chilling accuracy. I’ve tortured myself every night with thoughts of what I could’ve done differently, in hopes that this isn’t irreparable. I’m now beginning to question myself and that’s unlike anything that I’ve ever experienced.
Experience, how fitting, or lack thereof, because I would’ve been better equipped to handle her need to be free of me for now had I gone through something like this before. My experience with women have always been short and lacking of any real connection outside of my desire for companionship within the moment, but this is different. This is that feeling that the fairytales describe as a blood flushed face, clammy hands, and the strange urge to write her name in every notebook next to mine, then follow it up by carving our initials in the trees that I pass on my daily route. This is what they told me to fight for, and yet I strangled her as if I were Lennie, stroking her beautiful hair until she died in my arms, unaware of my own strength. I should’ve let her go.
I’m afraid to tell her of my uncertainty. What if she doesn’t understand why I’m so unsure? No one wants me. What if she grows to resent me more than she already does? Really, what’s attractive about a man unsure of himself? My confidence is wavering. I once thought that I was perfect for her and now I’m aware that I’m not due to my inability to let her go when she only asked for freedom. I fought for her so hard that I ended up with a captivate instead of a companion. Hell, I resent me, too.
I want her to tell me that everything is going to be okay with us and we’ll pick up where we left off with something much greater than we started with. I want her to sooth my racing mind and tell me that my uncertainty is stupid and irrational in the ways that she’s always done before regarding the things that didn’t concern us, this relationship. And here’s the thing: I can’t ask that of her. That’s really unfair. The only thing that I can do is wait with an open mind, in hopes that she’ll want me in the ways that she did before. I have to trust her.
...and always be waiting.
