So here is the effing deal. I broke up with him last night and yes I’m sad and yes I’m feeling rejected (even though I was the one doing the breaking up) but what is making me feel worst is that I feel hopeless.
I finally felt like that about someone, finally found that person I wanted to be with. This has been a long search. And no, he was not at all perfect, not even close. But I liked him, finally I liked someone who wasn’ t taken, who wasn’t in love with my best friend (you’d be surprised how often that happens), who wasn’t in another fucking country. Finally.
But he didn’ t feel that way about me. I knew it from the beginning. And at moments I didn’t want to be with him because he obviously wasn’t into me. And that, to me, is a deal breaker.
I was desperate, so I pushed. I grit my teeth and I took all the times he said he was going to take me out on a date and he didn’t, all the weekends he didn’t call, all the questions he never asked.
And he stopped trying too.
Because I can tell that at one point he did give a shit. He did try. He called when he was drunk and told me he missed me for the first time. He invited me for his company’s annual picnic. He called to ask if I made it home ok after a six hour drive home from a weekend away with a friend.
However he was never all in. And that caused me to never be all in. And now I think that I slowly pushed him away.
And that’s when he stopped trying.
And I started feeling unwanted, unloved, fooled.
So I stopped trying too.
And all of this amounts to my realization that he might have been it if I have given it a fighting chance. That maybe now, someone else will never show up.
And I see myself getting further and further from just simply having someone, someone to love, someone to love me, someone to share my life with.
It’s creeping in again, the realization that it’s never going to happen to me.
And that is the fucking deal.