That Day

My sister said he dogged me. And it’s not like I don’t really think so, because it probably is the truth. I just don’t want to believe it. And I don’t want to remember it that way. And part of me doesn’t really care too hard. Because I really wanted for us to be with each other that day. I wanted us that way.  I wanted us in all our ways. Because in truth, I liked that day with us. I liked it a lot. We had our ups and downs. And that, that’s just us.

Last Tuesday, we planned to see each other. we had planned it a week before. And as the day approached, there was one night where it seemed he wasn’t too sure. To cut the story short, we ended up messing around on Tuesday, as planned.

We got breakfast, where he really wanted to hold hands across the table. He told me how he went with his friend D to see a concert. And after getting upset with him, in which he said that they only went as friends with her sister and her sister’s boyfriend and how we weren’t really together and how him and D didn’t do anything, we sat there. As I wondered if I should call off our TV marathon, he wondered if were still having that marathon. And I tried not to feel hurt at him for having friends and I tried to forgive him. And so I laughed out loud. About how we were in diner and how this seemed dramatic. And how isn’t this something that would play back in a movie. And we laughed. And we continued on with our conversation.

He had something about how we were hanging out exclusively. Whatever the hell that means.

After getting breakfast, we had a TV show marathon, of which altogether consisted of two and half episodes or so. I’m just gonna state the facts. We acted like a couple. We said I love you. We messed around in bed. We cuddled. We kissed. We were very comfortable. Especially naked.

And in the midst of it all, we stopped. And I was about to ask the same thing as him, when he asked first. “What were we doing?” He said he didn’t want for us to be in a relationship. He didn’t want us to have any type of relationship right now. He didn’t think we should even hang out exclusively. I said I didn’t want him to be with anyone else. And he said that was fine. He could be alone. I said I could too, but even he thought that I couldn’t.

He said, aside from this, he didn’t like our relationship. So we talked about what we didn’t like about our relationship. We talked about the people we were when we were together. We talked about how we didn’t like them, the people we became when we were together. He became a liar. I became too dependent. He had said , I think (although I swear I feel like I’ve said this once before somewhere), that we both had learning to do. He didn’t like that I thought he was my adventure. Maybe he thought I was limiting myself. I don’t remember. And while he said things he didn’t like, I had my list too. And I cant remember it, but I think it was pretty long. I may have been crying.

We talked about what we liked about each other. And they all nice things. And I told him that he was colorful and vibrant and exciting. And I said that all between my tears. And thinking about it makes me so sad.

He told me he does think about me all the time. He thinks about me a lot. I said no. I think about him all the time. And so he said maybe he doesn’t think of all the time like I think of him, but out of everyone, I am the person he thinks of the most.

He told me he does get jealous. He told me how he gets jealous of the future guy I meet in dental school. And I laughed at him, as much as for the way he said it (the kid across from me cleaning the other kid’s teeth) as for the thought of him thinking I would end up with a dentist.

We talked about our future friendship. And even though some of it was sad and some of it was sweet and some it was very real, all I can say is we had real nice pillow talk, laughing there, without our clothes on. Wow, I’m not gonna lie. It felt really nice. I’m having hard time understanding why we aren’t together right now.

And he didn’t know if we would get back together. And part of me preferred this answer of his in comparison to a straight out no. And maybe one day we will. But right now, he think we should get space. In fact, since we’ve broken up, I’ve talked to him so often. I’ve got him to hang out with me once a week. I never did give him any space. So right now, I really am giving him time away and I guess, in turn, I’m giving myself time away.

(Two days later, I messaged him and accused him of having his friend Z stay over his house, even though I completely made that up. And I said how I hated that we passed each other that morning and none of us said anything. I hated that. He never read this message. We agreed we wouldn’t message each other anymore.)

And so in his living room, in the middle of an episode, he offered his hand. And even though I felt at the moment I had no idea what were doing, I already knew. We were shaking on the end of our relationship. We were shaking on friendship.

And to make that moment seem happy, I guess, we added another move to our handshake. And we practiced it a few times until we had it.

A little while after, he dropped me off. And we did our little handshake again. And he said he would call me whenever. Mistaking it for calling me ‘never’, he rephrased it and said he would call me sometime. And I was about to leave when he thought I forgot my water. And I finally did leave, but then he honked his horn. And I looked back and waved.

Recounting this kinda breaks my heart all over again.

There are probably people reading this who are tired because I keep inserting myself in the same story of chasing a boy who only half-loves me. And I’m pretty tired of this too. And maybe it’s young and naïve of me, but I really do love that boy. And I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. Because I don’t know. I don’t have a clue.

I miss him a lot right now. And in truth, Tuesday was both nice and messed up in so many ways. It makes me a little mad and it makes me sad and it makes me happy. And for the last week, I keep replaying it. I wonder if he replays it too.

I wonder sometimes if I should ever get around to sending him that letter that I started writing weeks ago. Maybe, maybe not. I don’t even know.

Hey, like always, I’m going to give it a few weeks or so. This is already exactly a week since I’ve said anything. Just a few more rounds of those. I haven’t truly given up just yet.


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