I have so many thoughts running through my head, and I don’t know if they’re real or not. I have swarm of feelings attacking me, and I don’t know if I can trust them. Is it just because it’s late at night and I’m sitting in my bedroom alone, with nobody to talk to? During the day when I’m at work, with friends, on the golf course and I feel content; is that real? Or are those things simply masking how I truly feel inside?
I haven’t posted on here in a while. Since December 11th, to be exact. That’s half a year without a single post or reblog. Tumblr used to be a daily thing for me. I’d spend hours scrolling, liking, reblogging, posting. It was my number 1 used social media site. Lately, it hasn’t even crossed my mind. I honestly haven’t had the Tumblr app on the past 2 phones I’ve purchased. I just don’t care enough. Maybe part of that comes with age, or maybe it’s because I already had everything.
Back in late August/early September of 2015, I got a message from someone on Tumblr. A certain someone I’d been following for a while, and always thought was really cute. Long story short, she also found me cute and we started talking. Fast forward a few months, and I’m buying plane tickets for my first trip to Canada. It took me 4 months from our first text message to make the decision to go visit her, and save up the money to do so. A year came and went, marking my longest relationship to date. She visited me, I visited her, and back and forth. Another long story short, and fast forward to today. I’ve been single for a week now. I don’t really know how it happened, and I knew I should have seen it coming, but I’m still shocked and surprised. Things hadn’t been perfect, but I had no idea the level of bad it was. There were times we would take a few days breaks from talking to one another, times where we would almost break up but hold it together, and times where I even wanted to end things. But everything always came back together in the end. So I guess I just assumed our relationship was invincible. I thought we would just always end up together. Maybe because of that I got lazy. Maybe I got complacent. Maybe I stopped trying. Maybe I was content in the way things were, without bothering to make sure she was as well. All I know is, when it’s 1am and I’m sitting alone, my mind can’t help but think of all the “what if’s”.
What if I showed more love and affection?
What if I made the effort to visit more?
What if I actually put forth the time to research how we could be together?
What if I wasn’t so rude, mean, and short tempered?
What if I wouldn’t have continuously gained weight?
What if I had been born & raised in Canada all along?
What if I had more money to take more time off work?
Why didn’t I post more about us? (In the 2 years we dated, I only posted about 5 photos of us on here. Even though I had hundreds of great photos, I never did anything with them. I got lazy)
Why didn’t I try harder?
Why didn’t I do my best to make sure she was happy?
Why didn’t I live up to mine and her expectations?
Why didn’t I take the proper steps towards a real future?
All of these things, and much much more, are just clawing at the back of my mind. I feel like an absolute piece of shit. Everything was right in front of my eyes, but I was too blind and stubborn to see them. Maybe I did see them and I simply didn’t care. I don’t even know at this point. I don’t even know why I’m typing all of this. I guess as some sort of release. I just feel so alone, and even though nobody will see or read this, it helps to get things out there. It feels better just to pretend like I’m talking to someone.
A few quotes are stuck in my mind right now. Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. I can’t help but think that is a load of shit. The way I feel right now, in this moment, is I wish none of it had happened. The time I spent with her were the best moments of my entire life. It was true happiness, in a way I had never known before. But to have lost that, is more heartbreaking than the good times were heartwarming. The heaviness of the pain right now is more than the highs I felt when we were together.
The other, you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone, rings a lot more true. (And fuck that stupid 80′s power ballad song, I got the Counting Crows song stuck in my head). But it’s true. It’s 100% true. In the past 2 years, I’ve grown to just expect her to be there. We texted 24/7, every day. About anything and everything. Sending photos of cute animals to each other. Venting about work or family. Then we’d FaceTime at night. It started off as an every night thing. Hours and hours, every night. Then as time went on, it became every other night. Then maybe a couple times a week. Once a week. We’d still text all the time, but I stopped making an effort to call. I took her for granted. She would stay home and wait hoping I would call, and I’d be out with friends or out to a movie. The 2,000 miles and 2 hour time difference between us didn’t make anything easy, but I failed in doing what I could on my end. We went from seeing each other in January of 2016, to March of 2016. Every other month or two, we would take turns visiting each other. I haven’t seen her since February of this year, and the next trip wasn’t planned until September. Seeing one another for 1 week every 7 months doesn’t cut it. And I take full blame on not doing my part to make things work. I wasn’t saving money for trips, I wasn’t saving vacation days at work. I was being lazy and I got stuck in the long distance aspect of the relationship. I was living my life here in Denver, and she was living her life in Montreal. We just happened to talk every day. We were e-pen pals. There was no romance. There was no spark. There was no sexuality. And I’m 100% to blame for that. Because I didn’t know what I had. But now that I’m sitting in my room alone, wondering what she’s doing, if she’s with someone, etc...I’m just dying. Now that she’s gone, I’m remembering all the amazing time and things we did together. I’m seeing how big of a piece of shit I was, and how I was completely failing her as a boyfriend. I really did not know what I had, until it was gone. And I don’t know where to go from here.
Sorry for this incoherent, rambling nonsense. I’m not looking for pity or sympathy. I’m not trying to paint her in a bad light. It’s just life. I wish her the absolute best, and hope she finds the happiness she deserves. I have a feeling I won’t truly now how bad I fucked things up until much later on in life. But forward is the only direction I can go from here, even if it’s into a dark, cloudy uncertainty.
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