I love him... 😮💨
I'm in the same place as I was last week.
On Tuesday morning, the emptiness I felt let me sleep through.
By midnight, I cried for the first time in days. The exhaustion, the lack of sleep finally got to me.
On Wednesday, I woke up at past seven. I hadn't intended to. I didn't set any alarm. I thought it was a fluke. I went back to sleep.
I spent the last couple of days doing the things I had put off because I spent my time and focus on him. I caught up on lost sleep. Did the tasks I had been meaning to do.
But in the moments in between, I spent that time wrestling with my own mind. From calmness to anger and back again, I picked apart my own thoughts.
On Thursday, I woke up at our time.
It's not a mistake. It's memory. I remember our habits and how we were.
I was missing him.
I thought about talking to him but I wasn't sure what to say. I can't just show up and pretend nothing happened, that I didn't just go quiet for a few days over nothing. I had to tell him, but I didn't know how.
I came here to gather my thoughts. To make sense of the things that had been on my mind since that Monday.
I looked at that cat on the roof and thought, Maybe he'd like that.
Why can't we be like that?
Why can't we have coffee shop dates like everyone else?
Why can't we just hold each other and make up?
And then the cat popped up to bother me and I laughed!
It's like Heaven sent a proxy and was like, "Here! Hold this instead!"
And I'm thinking about the cat now and was wondering where she is, thinking maybe she was sent in at the time to stand in for him and now that's gone, you're on your own...
And I looked over behind me and suddenly I see her sleeping:
I thought about it too...
If I said something wasn't okay, that he was doing something I didn't like, am I interfering? Am I influencing him to be different than who he is?
I know there's a lot about him I don't know.
But at the same time, I feel like I do genuinely like him as a person. If I genuinely like him for who he is, would that make it wrong for me to say something?
It's stupid, because I know the logical answer.
Objectively, I know that liking someone doesn't mean liking everything about them 100%.
But it scares me...
If I say that I don't like something, does it mean that I don't love him enough?
But if I don't talk, how about me? If it's something that hurts me, should I just let it go? Am I suppose to endure things until I burn out?
And even if it wasn't necessarily hurtful to me, that it was just something that I didn't agree with, something I didn't like, should I never say it?
When the fiasco happened, I considered if I should even tell him about it in the first place. I thought it might hurt him.
When I finally decided that he should know, I considered if I should tell him to not do certain things. I considered if it was wrong to say anything.
Is it overstepping? Is it asking him to be something he is not?
We were hurt for him. And argued for him. Against people who said he was undignified & had no self-respect. And it hurt seeing people talk about him like that.
And then his actions almost wrecked all that effort in a day. For no good reason. Other than he's conscious of people looking at him.
I tried to be gentler with my words and then I wondered if I was too gentle that he didn't hear what I was saying.
And I had thought if this is just who he was, and I wondered if it was me who was in the wrong in the first place for telling him not to do certain things. Maybe it wasn't my place, maybe I had no right...
I wondered if this is how things should be, that I should just keep things to myself and never talk...
I looked at the words I partially wrote last week when I had realized I was angry:
'And I can't even say anything because I'm afraid that if I say anything you don't like you'd disappear.
That's what you do to me.
And I come everyday, and I beg and I plead for you to come back.
And this... is it always going to be like this?
That I would have to be afraid you'd recoil and retreat if you don't like what you hear? That I would have to chase you everytime? Yes, I know, I thought I had done something wrong and that's why you couldn't come. Yes, I know you were sick and it wasn't your fault you couldn't come. Yes, I know being sick was more urgent and important than I was dealing with at the time.
But, don't you find it strange? You were sick and you couldn't come yet the first thing I thought of was that I had done something wrong you didn't like and that I have to apologize eventhough I don't know what I did.
Like what happened those two months from April.
What if I was also vulnerable? What if I was the one who was sick? Am I still expected to be the one to chase you?'
And it's something that his own friend had talked about before that he had a line that can't be crossed.
And I think I've seen that in some way.
For all his good qualities, for his understanding and patience, I think there are times he might be quick to judge; he can see something at surface value and immediately shun it.
No talking. No discussions. No looking for explanations. Just immediately close his door.
When I was very sick last year, my biggest fear was that I'd die and he might immediately think I abandoned him because no one would be able to tell him.
When he was gone for two months, I didn't know why. I could tell he was mad about something but I wasn't sure what. The way he made sure that I knew he was there and then leave. The way sometimes he'd stay and I thought everything was fine again but then he'd give the cold shoulder again the next day, purposefully leaving when I come see him..it was like that for two months.
I felt like I was being punished for something I did that I'm not even aware of.
When he finally came back, I didn't know why. I was cautious, I wasn't sure if he was truly back and everyday for a couple of weeks I wondered if he'd disappear again the next day.
When I was sure he was really back, I was just happy. I was thankful. But I still didn't know what happened or why.
I know it's useless to ask; I won't get an answer. At the time I thought, it was fine. The important thing is he came back.
But from time to time I remember it and wonder why. What did I do? What did I do to warrant that? And what made him forgive me?
And sometimes... just a couple of times... it crosses my mind, 'Was it really okay?'
'Am I okay? Is it okay that I experienced that?'
And I'm crying right now.
It's surprising. I didn't realize until now how much that actually hurt me.
By Wednesday, I still had nothing to say.
I spent the day in a flurry of thoughts and emotions, thinking one thing and picking them apart the next moment.
I made a fool of myself again, haven't I?
And I can't even say anything because he didn't ask me to do it. I did it. I did it because I chose to. And he's not obligated to appreciate it.
But why is that?
What is it that with a lot of men they can hurt you, in big ways and small ones, like thorns on a rose that prick you and bleed you. But they do one big grand gesture and you're supposed to reciprocate, you're supposed to forget, you're supposed to ignore the blood you've bled.
Yes, I said that I like that hindi siya maarte. But that didn't mean dropping on the floor for no good reason.
He didn't even wait a day. Maybe if he went and did it in the next job, maybe...
I thought, 'Was it really so bad if he went on the floor again?' 'Maybe it was just the timing that was bad. People laughed, so maybe it's funny and I just didn't see it. Would I have found it funny if the whole fiasco didn't happen? Maybe I would have found it funny if he did it some other time?'
'Am I overreacting?'
Was it me who was in the wrong? Am I having impossible expectations? I know liking somebody doesn't mean liking everything about them 100%. I objectively think that. But here, I feel uncertain. I couldn't tell if I was wrong or not for thinking that.
Should I just accept it? That he just wants to go on the floor until age makes his knees give way?
There isn't even any good reason to do so.
I spent the day like that... until I saw this
https://youtu.be/JtQezdtDXlI?si=nJuLHc-a4b44sBlf
Because it felt true. Like I was talking myself out of feeling the things I feel. I felt sorry for myself.