Life in the Alphabet Soup #3
I’m sorry I fell in love with you. I know now that I shouldn’t have. Hell, I knew that then too but I couldn’t help myself. You were just so smart, and wonderful, and kind, and beautiful. The way you smiled at me… I never thought anybody would ever smile at me like that. Not after I came out as non-binary and started transitioning. I didn’t think anybody would want me, somewhere in between masculine and feminine, covered in acne, going through a second puberty. I thought, who would want that? I thought myself unattractive, unwanted. Then you came along and you gave me so much confidence.
I thought you loved me. I mean, maybe you did. But you weren’t ever in love with me, were you? You came up to stay with me for a week. We slept in the same bed every night. You kissed me and held me. We fucked for god’s sake! We talked on the phone every single night, all summer long before bed. Every night, we talked for hours. When we had nothing left to say, we stayed on the phone, reveling in the companionship. Then I came and stayed with you for a week. We spent every hour of the five days with each other. We drank and fucked every night. We were free to do whatever we wanted and it was amazing!
So what happened? I left your house and we never talked again. You said you’d miss me. We hugged, you took a step back, and said you already missed me. Did you know then what you were about to do? Was it already planned?
Now I see your pictures on Facebook. I see you hanging out with friends, laughing and smiling like we used to. I post on my Snapchat story and I see that you’ve watched it. You trespass into my life at the worst moments. Just as I forget you, you pop back up. You are a ghost, haunting me. I have the power to kick you out, to block you, to cut you off, but I don’t have the will.
I still love you,
P.S. We both know I’m never going to send this.