It seems as though my feelings have changed. Strange, isn’t it? My once lust for his presence has dissipated; and all that’s left are the lingering pining thoughts that stick themselves to my mind and heart. Am I in love? No. I certainly thought so. But in recent events it has been revealed itself to be far more grayed than the black and white of said romantic emotions. Limerence was a pinnacle topic of discussion for the better part of the year. However, his current behavior leaves me in a state of hopefulness and doubt all at once. And where did this fine line we drew start to fade? Perhaps my devotion that glimmered in my all too honest eyes reflected back into his own. A message sent in distant and silent contact. My uneasiness with this has only created more and more frantic quests within my brain to find rational solutions and answers to what looks to be an unsolvable puzzle. The mystery Nancy could never uncover. A tale of a man who reels his fish line in, me pierced on the hook, and thus being tossed back into the pond. But he seems to only want to catch me? And why is that? Did I happen to catch his attention more than the rest of the fish? Was it the switch in my cruelty towards him? The way my love felt so open and free and true. My admiration, patience and upmost care and affection protruded outwards so intensely that maybe I went just a tad too far. To be with him now is a risk that I’m not very willing to take. How come he wants to breach our peaceful bond? Our platonically professional and quite literally the safest form of relationship we could ever have; what about that isn’t enough anymore? I circle around and pace back and forth over the facts, the imaginary placeholders to ease the blow of an outcome I genuinely expected would come about at any moment. And after wanting him so deeply, why now do I feel like running away?
Because it’s real now.
I should feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. But the heaviness has grown into a boulder on my back; hiding away with the confusion, because in the quietness of our intensity I still hear someone calling to me. And now, with all that’s happened, I hope it’s not him. His unintentional jabs and ignorance has me terrified. Frightened just enough to draw me away, but not enough to keep me away for good. I wish I could turn around and bolt. Save myself the pain and agonizing whirlwind of emotions. I promised to never let it happen again. And I plan to keep that promise. Even if it means removing the both of us altogether.
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And he’ll hate me for it. I guarantee it. In full confidence he will scream, and yell, and throw his hands in the air in an anguish I’ve become almost numb to. But what other choice do I have? My bones are tired of carrying his troubled being, when he could hardly hold my hand for just a second. The realization that he truly knows nothing about who I am and has proven that he never wants to. My heart aching for him to care about me more, but his performance no longer has me fooled. He’s sweetened himself to a point where I’m left at a crossroad of wanting to believe him, or to accept that the best thing that had happened to me, was a man disguising himself to be so. I won’t turn my back now, not after all I’ve earned, after all I’ve done. But my grace and poise and respect will die in a grave filled with the selves of plagued individuals I somehow once called me. My ears covered and eyes closed, walking away slowly, not wanting to listen to his anger and his pleas of desperation. Where did this need for me come about? And where was it when I, too, needed him all the same? Another unanswered question.
I will be okay. The catch before the fall has left me rear down on the mountain, and it will be a steady and difficult journey back down. But at least for now, I’ll be safe. Regardless of who the person is that I’m leaving behind. I will let him learn. A lesson that not many want to be taught, but entirely necessary.
And in time, he might just meet me at the bottom.
And in time, I might just let him
