I want to post about something that I've been afraid to post about all year. I was worried about the ramifications. I was worried that he'd somehow see it and get mad at me, ruining any chance at friendship or reconciliation. But he's so far removed from me at this point, that I don't think it matters. And I, slowly, frustratingly slowly, am starting to be removed from him, I think.
And that's the point, I guess. I think about him, and us, and what happened all the time. I've had the worst time letting him go. That's it. I haven't been able to let him go.
It's no wonder I thought he'd be mad at me for saying that. I'm mad at me for feeling it. You date someone for a month, and you should be over them a year later. You should. You should be over them 7 months later. You should be over them 4 months later. You should be over them a month later. I hate this.
Normally when I'm dumped, I'm upset. Big messy crying. Whatever. But a couple weeks later, I'll come around to his way of thinking. "He was right, we had nothing to talk about." "We really aren't compatible." "Religious differences are a good reason to end it." etc.
I've replayed and reread everything Luke ever told me about our break-up. And I get it, I think. I get why he did it. It makes sense that it happened. But for whatever reason, I can't make this leap... the leap that these things add up to us making a bad couple. And that's really the conclusion I have to come to if I want to let him go for good.
This happened to me once before. With Andy. Andy and I were a great couple. We loved each other a lot, then a lot of things happened to lead our lives in different directions. And we are different people now who would not be a great couple anymore. And I've known all this for years. And all those years that I knew that, understood that, I couldn't control my feelings for him. If I was lonely, or sad, or ending another meaningless fling, I'd remember how happy I was with him. I'd get jealous of him and his new girlfriend. I'd be upset that he'd fallen in love again and I hadn't.
And I guess that's part of the reason these feelings for Luke keep hanging around. He was the first person I'd met since Andy that I actually liked. That I was actually excited to be with. That I really wanted to care about. I wasn't just dating him to pass the time. I really did care about him.
That's a tall order I guess.
Now, let's be real for a minute. It's not like I have this big dream of him rushing back to me, making some grand romantic gesture that means "Take me back!" so I can wrap my arms around him and kiss him and we'd get back together and everything would be wonderful like we're in some romantic comedy. I may have all these feelings I can't deal with, but I still have a grasp on the way things really are.
Aside front he myriad of reasons that would prevent him from doing that, there's also a myriad of reasons that'd stay my hand if everything changed and I suddenly found him at my door. Namely, all the trust that was lost. At this point, I'm under the impression that he lied to me. A lot. Almost exclusively.
I'm not saying like he would look at me and say "I'm going to the store" then go sleep with some other girl.
I just... I don't think that he ever showed me who he really was. I think he was really good at seeing who I wanted to be dating and acted like he was that person. And I don't think he did it maliciously or anything. I think he was just naturally really accommodating. Maybe.
And that's something else that's so frustrating. Is that I know I'm hung up on this image he projected. Part of me feels like if I knew who he really was, if I saw the differences he saw, I'd be behind him on this one. I be able to take the leap and see we weren't a good couple.
But I don't even know really, do I? I only knew him for a month. Maybe he wasn't putting up a front. God I wish we could have been friends.
I don't even know if he liked me or if he was just passing time with me.
But I mean, all that considered. There's still the memory of how I felt with him. How happy and exciting it all was, right? How great it felt when I thought he felt the same way.
And that's what's so hard to shake. Those feelings are so salient. Sometimes I catch myself thinking that we met at the wrong time. That if we had met each other 2 years from now in some cafe it would have all worked out, I could have known who he really was.
It's all so damn frustrating. And I wish I had even one picture together.
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