I could not be more appalled by myself at this time. It’s been over a week since my guy moved out, and by all technicalities, he’s still my guy.
I have not spoken to him or showed him affection in a long time, and I’m completely reluctant to. The reasons are unbearable to admit.
I miss him for all the wrong reasons. Since he’s been gone, I have mostly missed him out of habit, although I am glad to admit that I did get anxiety several times for seeing his bike still parked outside my apartment, for not seeing his car parked near mine, and for staring at the lump of blankets in the morning and knowing, no, he’s not buried underneath them.
I didn’t miss him because I’ve been doing homework at my friends’ places, and I’ve had so much fun. And I didn’t miss him because I didn’t have to worry about when he was going to eat or if I should have been home at a certain time. I didn’t miss him because I didn’t have to consult with him about when I was going somewhere. I have also for the most part been sleeping better and enjoy how my room looks with only “my stuff”.
I missed him when I wanted to share my happiness of a new coffee grinder because he was the only one with whom I talked about coffee. I missed him when I wanted to watch the TV show we watched together. I missed him when I wanted to complain about my bad grades. I missed him when I wanted to tell him how heartbroken I have felt, but I couldn’t tell him exactly why.
I have few reasons to want to be with him. One of my friends asked me why I was with him in the first place. The words that came to mind were that he was “practical”, “manly”, and “cute”. But even then, we only talked about school or TV. And what we did was watch movies that he liked or TV shows he liked together. I cannot say that I regret a lot of those movies and TV, but there was no productive quality to our relationship, and I think that is what is killing me about it.
We don’t have much in common. I am mostly a creator. He is mostly a consumer. I take photos, he takes photos, but we take completely different types of photos. I don’t like the games he plays, and he doesn’t like the games I do. We both like food, but who doesn’t?
But what we did have in common was school. We had a common striving. We both did homework. We both went to class and cared for UC Davis. But now that he’s graduated, what do we have left? We don’t share anything anymore, and I just don’t want work to be the only thing that I have in common with someone that I could potentially be with for a long time.
There’s also history. Time is something we shared, and that’s not something that can ever be changed. I do not regret a second being with my guy. I think. I do regret not breaking up with him when he cheated on me, and I do realize that breaking up with him then could have meant that our years together would not have happened. But that’s not true. We could have gotten back together another time, under the right circumstances, for the best reasons. It simply should have been different because after all this time, I still burst out in tears remembering that I was cheated on, and it feels awful. I still burst out in tears remember that I was almost choked once. And when I burst out in tears it’s not fun to remember that he doesn’t know how to make me happy when I’m sad. And I’m sad a lot.
I still have the other him. In the days my guys’s been gone, I have tried to rekindle my flame for him. I try to think about him, but all I feel is guilt when I do. I think of him asking me, “Are you cheating on me?” right before he moved out. I said no, but I obviously felt that I was.
Whenever I hear my phone vibrate, I have this scared feeling because I feel like the other guy is texting me to tell me that he found out about my feelings. I’m scared that the other guy’s girlfriend will text me to say that she has had enough of me texting him. And then when it doesn’t vibrate, I’m sad because I want to talk to him so badly, but I know I shouldn’t pursue it because I want to be respectful of his relationship as much as possible. But it’s scary how much I like the other guy. I don’t even know him.
I don’t know if I’m imposing some sort of idea of a new start upon him, but I just know that I like him a lot and want to know him more. And I don’t know how to get over him or find closure. I don’t. But I definitely want to, and I think that’s a good start.
I don’t know much, but I know I want to feel heartbroken. Shattered, and truly heartbroken. I want to see all the beautiful pictures of the other guy and his girlfriend. I want to see them smiling and having fun in Snapchat videos. I want to know that he’s so incredibly happy with her and not for a second thinking of me. I want to see that stupid bracelet he wears on his wrist and her name pop up on his phone. That’s what I want to see over and over again till I burst into tears. That way, maybe I will finally get over him.
But I don’t want to see my guy smiling with someone else. That’s fact.
Until I figure myself out, I don’t know what to do. I’m in limbo. And I’m not getting anywhere. I am such a problem, and I just want to talk about it with the people that are involved in my life: him and the other him. But I just freaking can’t.
Everyone tells me different things, but even as I am breaking down, why am I thinking about just telling the other him? Why am I thinking about crying in his arms? In arms I’ve never cried in before? In arms that I don’t know? In arms that I will never land in because it won’t happen.