I’ve Had Three Glasses of Wine and You’re All I Can Think About
I couldn’t put it into words what it was like being with you. I went through phases with people and left them when I got bored, when we got together I thought it was going to be the same thing. Instead, I fell in love with you.
I was terrified. I didn’t know what it meant to be in love, or how it happened. I think it was because you were the first person to actually care about me, and see through my bad times. You taught me how to dance under a clear moonlit summer sky. You never took, “nevermind it doesn’t matter” as an answer as to why I was feeling down. You made me feel like I actually mattered in the world and that you cared about me. But that was when things were good.
I like to forget how often things were bad. Your constant reminder that we were just casual when I got upset that you hooked up with my best friend, or when you talked to someone that was way more attractive than me. A coworker would tell me that she sexted you just because she knew you would respond. You ignored me until it was time to leave the bar, and you knew I would have sex with you when we got back. You always liked to talk to me about your Tinder matches. You didn’t like when I tried hold your hand, and at first I thought it was because you didn’t like PDA, but then I realized you were using that as an excuse so our only physical contact was sex. After you moved away, you promised to come visit me, only to cancel the night before I was supposed to pick you up from the airport. When I got drunk, I used to cry to you, telling you I was afraid I would never see you again. You promised me that wouldn’t happen, that I was a big reason why you were still alive.
And then you ended things out of nowhere. I had a complete breakdown and you told me “to find someone else to talk to about it”. I couldn’t believe that this is how love could end. And I’ll never see you again. I never got to tell you that I was crazy about you or that I was in love with you. I’ve been so obsessed with the past and the thought of closure that it haunts me nearly every night. But I think, was I really in love with you or was I just in love with the feeling?
I suppose I really was in love with just the feeling. The feeling of your hands on my body, when I caught you looking at me while we were working, when you used to get angry at me for missing a meal, spending days off together, when you told me I would be an amazing mom one day, when it was 1 in the morning and you came and found me because I couldn’t sleep, when you would get fake angry at me when I would pay for your coffee when you weren’t looking, when you would let me sleep in your bed during breaks, when you kissed me on the forehead and told me you had never felt like this with someone before. I guess I was just in love with the feeling from those moments. But isn’t that what love is?
None of it really matters anymore does it? Because we’re states apart and I really am never going to see you again. Life goes on and I’ll stop thinking about you soon.