It makes me want to howl with grief

It makes me want to howl with grief

It makes me want to howl with grief


I knew eventually I’d get to this spot where I would be tempted to contact you. I tried to go around myself. I deleted your number and your email address. But I want to tell you a few things, even if I’m just talking to myself all long and rambling.

I still miss you.
I still love you, and I always did, even if I never said it, I tried to show you with my actions.

I don’t understand why things happened the way they do but it means something that it’s been over a year since I’ve met you and I still feel the same.

I don’t understand how you either don’t/didn’t feel it or you feel/felt it and you ignored it. I don’t understand how you could systematically set out to do everything you could to drive me away when it felt like you wanted me there so badly. Do you think your value is so little you don’t deserve love? Was it all subconscious sabotage? I can’t believe someone with your heart and sense of justice would do to me what you did deliberately with malice. I think if you wanted me as just a friend your face wouldn’t light up when you saw me. I think you would have been honest that you just wanted a friend. Or maybe I’m fooling myself…

I think your lack of self worth, your depression, and your history doomed us. Maybe it’s my way of absolving myself.

It makes me furious that you are in this world, that you aren’t even an hour away, and it might as well be another continent for all you ever existed in my life.

It makes me furious that I met you, that I know you exist, and you aren’t there, aren’t here. You felt like you were Excited I existed too. But for some reason you just couldn’t bring yourself to make time for me, or even treat me with common courtesy you’d want shown to other women. In my sick brain, it meant you cared, and were running scared, and eventually you’d wise up and let me in and cherish me like you wanted to, but were scared to. But eventually, I realized I was just letting you treat me like crap, and being always available for you. Teaching you that I’d put up with whatever treatment. Not good for me, and not how I want a relationship to go. Not what I need to teach my children( or yours) about relationships either.

It makes me want to howl with grief.

I didn’t know you existed.

I WISHED, I hoped, but it was a pipe dream.

Then you were THERE, and it was like you were a body part that was missing. That I ached for unknowingly. And I was almost complete.
And it f#!*ing sucks.

And I’m left never knowing whether I’m a fool, and you never felt it at all.

I am worth more than how you treated me. I am smart, and beautiful, passionate, loyal and honest.
And none of your treatment seems to matter, because I still love you.

I’m so angry at myself because I’d take you back in a heartbeat if you’d only promise to treat me like I matter, to make time for me. To talk to me. But you already promised that stuff, and broke it. But I’d trust you again, because it’s YOU. That missing piece. How can I not trust myself?

I don’t understand how all my instincts scream that it’s YOU and to be so wrong. But they have to be wrong, because why would you treat me so dismissively if you felt like I do?

I miss your crooked smile, and your fuzziness, I miss just your quiet presence. I miss all the things we had in common. And listening to you talk about all the things you’re passionate about. I miss the look you’d give me when I wore jeans. I miss how it felt when you touched me. I just miss you.

It does give me some comfort on some days that I know the name of that person I longed for.

I want so much for you to be happy Josh. Or even just content. I’d love to be the person that helped make your world brighter. I’ll settle for knowing I brought brightness in for a while.

I’m pretty sure I did.



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