I laid on my my bed holding my phone up to my face only to stare blankly at it. I couldn’t decide whether to text you, or wait for you to text me. It got me anxious, and made me feel very uneasy. I thought back what happened earlier today when I received your message saying that if we could talk later. I never felt the world around me turned so grey before.
It’s been later. Much later. You haven’t sent me a text since then. All of these thoughts came running back to me and the frustration was very difficult to handle. I tried to give you the space but going on without talking to you for the rest of the day made me depressed.
I finally had some courage to tap your name, and as the text field showed up, I froze again. Only to think of how to greet you.
I began to type—
"Hey, sorry. Are you still awake?" I finally received something from you.
"Yes. You wanted to talk?"
"Oh… yeah. Do you mind if I call?"
It was then the memories of us just started to play in my head. I was the only one in the theatre, watching “us”. It was so bitter-sweet but rather more bitter because I knew what was coming. I suppressed my tears and patiently waited for you to call.
It was only three minutes until you called. But those three minutes were long enough for me to think through why. And what happened. And how? How it slipped through my fingers… yet I didn’t do anything about it. I didn’t fight hard enough for you? I embraced myself for the worst, and tried figuring out anything else to say to you in order to salvage our relationship. I really did love you, but I didn’t love you well enough.
I felt the distance when you said my name.
"I’ve been thinking," I know… just tell me, "I’ve been thinking all day. I’ve tried, John."
"I’ve tried to get what I had when we first started, but I can’t. John, I can’t get them back. You’ve pushed me away too many times. You threw me in the dark leaving me to struggle to climb up to you. And whenever I succeeded in getting close to you, you’d shut the door! You hurt me. You hurt me too many times for me to patch my own heart. The heart you promised to keep safe. I want to forgive you one last time, but I’m compelled to hold myself back."
At this point I was speechless. The silence was noisy. I felt my tears falling. I hurt you to the point where I hurt myself even more. I failed. This failure was more painful than anything.
"It pains me to do it, but I can’t continue trying to be with you anymore. I really did love you, John."
And that was the last time you said my name. Ever.
Since then, I’ve been trying to prove myself worthy of loving someone the right way. But I’ve only felt the karma. I felt your pain. And even if we aren’t friends now, you taught me a valuable lesson. And I thank you.