January 1st, 2012
|02:18 pm - I don't regret what I did|
If I never had done with I did, you never would have realized your true feelings for me. Now I wish -- I think we both wish -- you would have realized those feelings a lot sooner.
You see, I was in love with you at one point. Actually, I think I was in love with you from the very beginning. Recently I found an old hand-written journal type entry in a notebook from that time period, and it went on and on about you in glowing terms. I thought about giving you these pages to read before giving this speech, but after reviewing them in detail I decided it would be better to summarize the main points. I'm ashamed now to look back on how naive I was then, and embarrassed at how confidently I declared to understand things that I never truly understood at all. Not fully anyhow. At this time I do not possess the courage to share those particular thoughts with you.
Most notably I wanted to share what initially attracted me to you so powerfully. Obviously I consider you to be a very physically attractive individual, but your most astounding characteristic for me was never the stereotypically desired great hair/eyes/body/etc. What caught my attention was this radiant light that seemed to beam from you when you smiled. That's why I constantly sought you out to tell you jokes or make fun of somebody. I just thought the life that exuded out of you was so amazing. I couldn't get enough. In this earlier journal that I wrote, I pondered if that was love - I hypothesized that one person's happiness shone like light at a certain frequency, which only one other person was "tuned" to receive, or interpret.
At the time I recall that I felt brilliant for coming up with such an analogy. Now, of course, I feel stupid. Duped. Deceived. Almost betrayed. For you see, then you came to live with me. I saw you every day, and came to know you better probably than you know yourself. I found out that the phenomenon that I had mistaken as your "light" beaming out from within you was never really you at all. Instead you were this moody, sulky, depressed, mostly angry individual. "Because I was unemployed!" you may retort, but I know that wasn't the case because you were always angry at me. Me. It didn't matter that it was in no way my fault that you were unemployed. Quite the opposite; I was sheltering and feeding you so that unemployment wouldn't hinder you. Oh sure, I can imagine that is still nowhere near the lifestyle you would have lived had you been bringing in your own money. Thus it would seem that unemployment WAS a factor, and you were morose and mean to me because I could not provide for you what you wanted.
But I know this was still not the case.
I want to make it clear, I never let you come live with me out of compassion for your situation, and I didn't continue to support you out of sympathy. I know I said that once when we were in the course of breaking up -- something about you moving in for a month and then never leaving -- but I should mention here that I only said that because I was angry. It was merely the fight talking, not me.
Obviously I could have asked you politely to leave when the 1 month ran out, or at least hinted that I wanted you to go by inquiring about progress with alternative living arrangements. Obviously I didn't tell you to leave or ask about other arrangements because I actively wanted you there, I wanted you to remain living with me. Honestly I didn't care that you were unemployed. Perhaps that was stupid of me. Definitely unrealistic, but I have always been an idealist when pursuing emotional interests. I really just enjoyed having you around all the time. I knew that if you worked, we wouldn't see each other as much. In the early stages, spending time in your presence was more important to me than any other luxury that the income of you working could have provided. I may have even assumed that your lack of desire to work indicated that you preferred to spend time with me in poverty than to enjoy a comfortable life without me.
To be totally honest, if you had continued to be that person that I fell in love with -- the man with the radiant light beaming from his inner being -- then I may never have asked you leave. What ruined everything was not the continued need to care for you, but rather the slow realization that you were not that person, that you never were that person except when you were stoned. How many times I suffered at your short-temper that I knew I never deserved, only to watch you smoke weed and transform into this person that I wished you could be always. How stupid I started to feel as I realized that you were not this person; this person was simply an effect of getting high.
I suppose I could have settled for that. I mean, at least you had the potential to be that person, even if it only was some of the time. There were so many times I wanted to tell you that I loved you. Especially at night when we were laying together in bed, on the verge of sleep, the words "I love you" were right there, on my mind at the gate of my lips. I never could utter them, however. I imagined telling you my feelings and being rebuked by you in anger at the stupidity of feeling or expressing sentiment. I guess one too many nights of holding in those emotions, they finally just dissipated inside of me. One day I swallowed them back down, and they never resurfaced.
It was painful to love you without reciprocation. But it was more painful that you decided to start loving me when I ended the relationship. Even though all the words were the ones I had always wanted to hear, I just couldn't conjure the same feelings to want that anymore.
Now it's painful every day, wondering. What if you had developed these feelings for me sooner? COULD you have developed these feelings for me sooner, while we were still together? Is there anything else different that I could have done to have created them? Anything better I could have done, or been? If I took you back now, would things be different? Better?
I have to emphasize that I really don't believe in second chances. I don't believe that people "change". I guess it's just happened to me too many times in previous relationships. Things become unbearable, so I end it. He always apologizes, so I cave. We fall into old patterns.
I'd really like to believe that you are sincere about your "change". I really think we could have an amazing life together if you truly have transformed into this person...
But who knows? I guess only time will tell