I feel sick to my stomach. I’m confused, sad, angry and nauseous. You’ve nauseated me. Sure, is it my fault for reaching out to you? Yes. I should’ve listened to Sydney and kept my excitement to myself.
I guess I was just so accustomed to sharing everything with you. I wanted to be excited with you - I just wanted to talk to you. I am so stupid.
Our messages back and forth that night made me so happy, the happiest I’ve been in a while, actually. I was finally excited again. It was almost as if I could feel my blood rushing throughout my entire body...I could feel again.
When you sent me what you wrote in your journal my heart shattered in my chest. For whatever reason I felt, and feel, so guilty. I feel like you’re on this medicine because I pushed you to talk to someone and get ‘help’. I just wanted you to feel better and now you feel worse (I think) and I’m so sorry.
I could’ve sat with you in your car forever. Just being around you makes me happy. I’m so sad knowing that I won’t be around you again. I love listening to you talk, or ramble, and decipher your thoughts. I just want to know what you’re thinking all the time. I just want to know you.
You kept rubbing my leg and just your touch made me feel electrified. I’ve never felt anything like that - I felt a lot of things that night.
I guess I’d been suppressing most of my emotions in an attempt to feel less crazy. I’m so bad at feeling; I hate feeling. You’re the only person who has ever made me feel like this - so many things in such little time.
When you hugged me in your car I cried because I knew that I had lost you. I know you’re gone and that you’re not coming back and it hurts.
I could’ve listened to you talk forever. When you put the key in the ignition I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want you to leave.
We pulled up in front of my house and I couldn’t move. When you kissed me I didn’t know what to think, what to feel. I’m so tired of feeling.
I’m not sure why you waited outside of my house for so long, or why I stood in front of the door for so long watching you wait outside of my house. Maybe it just felt like a long time. Maybe I was hoping you’d come to the door. I don’t know.
Against my better judgement I texted you to come inside and I’m so sorry that I did. I shouldn’t have texted you and you shouldn’t have come inside. It would’ve saved me from a lot of this unnecessary blah-ness. I’ve been so blah since that night.
I thought our talk was so good. I love (and hate) that you pry my thoughts out of me, it makes me think that you might actually care about what I’m thinking and feeling and wanting to say. I love crying with you and to you. You have such a hold over my emotions.
I keep thinking back to the sex and how I thought it was incredible, but maybe that’s just because there was passion and we hadn’t seen each other and we had really good talks throughout the night. I don’t know - maybe it was just incredible. I’m trying not to think about it.
When I asked you if you were going to tell her and you said no I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Maybe it was just my perception of you, and maybe I was wrong to think so, but I believed that you were the most honest human on the planet. But then, to top it all off, you said, in complete seriousness, “I’m a really good liar.” Matt, my heart dropped to my feet, my brain felt like it shorted out and my stomach did a million flips. A piece of me died.
The entire image of you that I had worked up in my head was a lie because you told me that you’re a liar. I’m crying typing this out because knowing that breaks my heart. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so many emotions in the span of seven hours and the days following those seven hours.
All I could think about was her. Do I like her? No. Obviously not. I’ll never like anyone you’re with who isn’t me. But, for a moment, I felt bad for her. How could she be lucky enough to have you, but a you that, thankfully, I never knew. I guess the craziest thing, though, is that she doesn’t know that side of you. This paragraph isn’t making much sense to me. You’re not making much sense to me.
If you ever spoke to Monica (while you were with me) the same way you spoke to me (while you’re with Jackie, obviously) I’d resent you for the rest of my life. Although I was skeptical I always chose to trust you. And if you ever physically cheated on me, well, you’d be dead to me. I know - this is really hypocritical since I’ve cheated on you - but at least I let you know and gave you an out if you wanted one.
I don’t know what’s worse - knowing or not knowing. I guess, at this point, I wouldn’t want to know.
Sex aside, and just for your own sake, I don’t understand why you’d choose to be in a relationship if you have such strong feelings for two people. It’s not fair to do to yourself or her, or, honestly and selfishly, me.
Why trap yourself in a box (metaphorically, of course) instead of giving yourself the space to figure out what’s going on in your head? Do you really need to be with someone that badly? Sure, you like her and enjoy her company - but is that enough for you when you’re still trying to figure yourself out?
Maybe it’s just me and I’m just jealous.
I’m sorry I sent you those texts and those pictures and I’m sorry that I asked you to hangout and be friends. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be your friend and I don’t just want to hangout with you. I want so much more than that.
I want to do everything and anything with you - certain things feel so empty without you and I’m sincerely hoping that with time the emptiness will be filled. Whether or not it’s filled by you, I guess, is up to you.
But then I think, hypothetically, if you were to leave her, would I even want to be with you? You’re not the you I once knew and I don’t think I could ever trust you again.
When you were on Fire Island and you were drunk you texted me, “I’m an asshole who always tries to get his way.” Again, my heart shattered. I don’t know you anymore, and all you kept trying to say was that I’m the only one who really knows you - but I’ll never know if that’s true and I’ll never know if you actually mean what you say or if you’re just trying to evoke some type of emotion out of me.
Whatever it may be, I can’t get you out of my head. I cried to Hunter about you the other night - I’ve never felt so pathetic. This whole thing makes me feel weak and dumb and a bunch of other things I hope to never feel again.
I love you Matt, with my whole heart. As I’ve already said to you, I’ll miss you for the rest of my life.