i’m sorry i didn’t love you back, mi. i didn’t deserve the shit you said to me, but i understand where it came from. it doesn’t have to be justifiable for me to understand. you gave a lot and you faced rejection over and over. you felt under-appreciated. i didn’t reciprocate. i didn’t owe it to you, but it hurt, and for that i’m sorry.
i know you’ve packed it away. i’m sure you’ve deleted the texts. (i know it paints you poorly, and you can’t have that).
but i’ve been thinking it over. i wish it hadn’t happened. i wish i’d left the first time. you were angry i wasn’t loving you like you wanted, and i was afraid of your animosity.
i’m sorry i was “everything” and you weren’t. i was your person, and i didn’t tell you shit. you weren’t hearing about my days because i didn’t trust you. it’s awful stuff. i’m sorry you introduced me to your friends. i’m sorry you wrote me into your budget. i’m sorry you told me you loved me. i’m sorry you thought it could work into the school year, and i’m sorry i told you i didn’t.
i know you are small to me, and i am smaller still to you. but i’m still affected most days, and i don’t think leaving you like that is any good for you either.
you didn’t want to date, you wanted to focus on yourself and your studies. you told me this, unprompted. but it hurt, and you needed to be held.
i’m sorry i wouldn’t come over.
i realize now, because you had said it so many times, (and i had rejected it every time,) that you had wanted it.
people who are happy with themselves don’t tell girls “i don’t know why you stay with me.” i hope you know why i did now.
i’m still disgusted, i’m still hurt, and i’m still fucking baffled at some of the things that were said, but i’m not angry lately.
it’s too exhausting. it’s easier to empathize and hope you get through your shit. i am here. i hope you are okay - you can’t grow in a stressful environment. i hope you have time.
i hope you feel bad. i hope you can face it. you would need to, to be any good. you can’t hide, and you wouldn’t be in any trouble admitting to it.
i wonder if she sees you.
i wonder if she’s what you need, as you told me i was. but what we need isn’t comfortable.
i wonder if she even has to be “resilient.”
i have to hold faith in you or i fall apart. i need it to have meant something, but you show me it didn’t. it’s hard to recover without a better image of you. it’s hard to know you felt enough to say those things to me. it’s hard. i cry a lot. no one should say those things and for it to be you, someone who told me i was young and figuring things out, not to worry about being “interesting,” because i was enough as i am. for the only person who had any faith in me when it came to college, for someone who held me, fucked me, and loved me, to tell me what you did. it hurts.
i know i’m not your favorite person right now, but i still care about you. if you need someone to talk to, i’m here.
you didn’t, but i mean it.
