God. There is absolutely no part of me that, for my own selfish reasons, wants to not have found you in this way; to love you in this way. But, for you, I almost wish I had never been brought into your life.
It’s unfair. You look happy enough before. And I’m not even saying that’s great! But nothing seemed to be challenging it, and that isn’t awful. And I love you so much, so of course I want the best things for you. Right now, for your own happiness, nothing else considered, that looks like me. But for every single other goddamn factor in your life, I am just a fucking complication. And it is for that that I can kind of wish we had never met.
I don’t want you to misunderstand… You are the best thing I know. You are the single most attractive man I can think of. Physically, emotionally, intellectually… You are stimulating and engaging and more than I could have hoped or imagined to find. And that is so terrifying, because I don’t get you. So after this, whatever this is and whenever happens, I have to go on and try to find someone close to you, and I have to make sense of that life as if you weren’t the best thing I have ever had. And you have to do the same… And Jesus-fucking-Christ is that unfair.
You are everything I have never believed I deserved. How do you want me?? How am I not only enough, but the best thing for you? How-the-fuck? Just how?
And then, there’s the rest of the equation. The part that makes me wish, out of my insanely deep and irrational love for you, that I had never, ever been a part of your life. For your own sake. Because I know now that we can’t just take it back a few months; we have to go years. I should have never walked in there. I should have been some other major, had some other interest. I should have been sick that day. That semester. But I never get sick…
I can’t help but hurt at the thought. I have had the best thing I ever could. And, according to you, so do you. And I believe you. I always believe you, and you have never given me a reason not to. But I would take this. I would go on understanding that touching you is the most amazing thing I will ever experience; I would go on with the memory of looking into your eyes and loving you, and seeing you love me; I would go on accepting sub-par sex from others, despite knowing exactly where to find the absolute best. You name it, I would take it. All to allow you to forget it. Forget me.
And I would take the pain of you forgetting, too.
If I could believe that you could go on with your life and not question it, and think that good enough was good enough. If someone, or something, could tell me that if I had never just walked into your life, you would never know the heights we have felt together, that you would be forever satisfied with the life you had, I would give that to you. Is that wrong? You say you wouldn’t trade it, but you wouldn’t know… At what point am I doing you the favor?
I want to say that, from my own perspective, I would rather feel the height, and fine if it comes with the pain. So I guess this is just 500+ words of crap. Because if I were you, and I read this from me, I would tell me to shut the fuck up. I would say I was being stupid as shit. I want you and I need you and I refuse to let you go. Good enough is not good enough, and you are bliss, and perfection, and I won’t go back. I won’t take a life in which I could remain satisfied forever without ever knowing how much more there is.
But you aren’t me. And you can’t know. So I do think. What if I could take it back? Give you your life back?
I. Don’t. Fucking. Know.
· · ·
But I can’t take it back. So shut up, self.