Dear Boy That I Met at Lunchtime,
You said to me: “At least you know how it feels like now”
What was it?
Oh, the feeling of liking someone.
I had doubts and my own self-esteem didn’t allow me to realize that.
Or maybe I didn’t want to feel that because I felt scared.
I felt betrayed, like you were lying to me.
And that’s cause you were. Saying that you liked me, but at the same time you were off with someone else, one of my good friends.
What else could I do? Keeping my feelings to myself seemed like the best way, and to keep everyone happy and the same.
If I said or started anything, my friendships would have been broken. I don’t make friends easily and that possible reality terrified me.
Afraid, fear, it all comes up again. Confusion, self doubt.
The countless pet names and flirtatious moments, the way I thought we were talking and connecting and sharing similar interests. Me being difficult to talk with and remain in contact with someone and yet here we were, talking as if we’ve known each other for years.
It seemed surreal.
You were right.
I’ve never experienced that before.
I was stuck, frozen. I didn’t know what to do next.
And then when news came out that you were messing around with her, becoming friends with benefits, I didn’t know what to say or react.
But if I did, what would happen? How would things turn out? Choosing you over them and over anyone else’s feelings.
You said you loved me, and that you never felt that way before. But not in common terms, in ways that made me feel different and special.
But you also lonely, and waiting to see if I felt the same way, and thus started messing around.
What if you waited? I see now, I really think I realized my feelings in January. Your friends with benefits agreement began in December.
One month more.
Could have you waited another month? Would you?
Our set of circumstances and how everything played out.
It was all bad timing, wasn’t it?
Do you think about this? Killing yourself thinking about what could have been?
Was it too much to bear for you?
I guess this became your decision to cut me off completely instead.
It was so you could have control of the situation, and to feel like the one in power, that it was your choice to make.
Or so I’ve theorized.
I can’t really ask now.
But at least I can pretend that I am. Let me know what you say.