I just can’t keep this to myself. But I can’t talk to you either. There is one thing I wasn’t honest about, I wasn’t true to myself. Yes, I also left open what could be between us, though not because I wanted to, but because I felt you weren’t ready.
At first I didn’t know what to think after you finally told me (and I have to admit that I don’t think it fair I still had to push you forward to telling me) then I thought it were alright because we started talking again and all the tension was just blown away. We were laughing and joking and talking and I loved that part. And I thought, when it goes on like this I can easily forget about kisses or anything.
But that’s just not the problem. The problem is that all I want of you is the one thing that you can’t give me. Being important to you. I don’t care about spending all my time alone with you. Or about holding you hand. Or anything else. But I want to feel that I am as important to you as you are to me (and I myself felt surprised by the fact that you are important to me)
I won’t talk to you about it as it won’t change anything and will only make everything more complicated, as it shifts my private problem to being anyone else’s aswell. But I can’t keep this to myself, so as always I write it down.
I don’t know how comes, I didn’t ever plan on it, contrary to everything else, I didn’t even want any relationship during the next time. I just came out of one, a complicated ending, a lot of time and nerves invested and a lot lost when it didn’t work out. Happy getting my head out of relationships for some time when university started. But then you changed my opinion. The safe feeling in someone’s arms, the loving look (and oh yes, you had that at the beginning!), the gentle touch. You reached through my skin and touched my heart directly. You couldn’t heal any wounds but you made me trust again and made me forget about it.
I can understand that you don’t want anything serious as it was exactly what I first felt when we met. But I just can’t understand how you could wait nearly a month to tell me. How you could get into my heart and never tell me that you don’t want to enter it. I wouldn’t have had a problem with friendship in first place. But I have one now. Because I grew accustomed with being in some kind of relationship with you. And now, as I’m sitting here, hoping on one hand that you’ll never read this and on the other hand the exact opposite, my scarf still smells of you, I still hear your voice in my head and I burst to tell you that I don’t want to be friends. I can, and I will be, but I just so don’t want to!