Dan

It hurts when you tell me that I have no meaning by not wanting to see me. What is your story now? It's been almost 3 months and I can't imagine how your life has changed. It's probably exactly the same, and I'm here wondering why things couldn't have been different. I'm missing you less and less. You're not in my life anymore, so it's getting easier to forget you. That's what I wanted in the first place. It's why I cut you out of my life. The pain was too great. Loving you sucked out my energy. I spent all that I had in my love stash on you. I am glad you're not here anymore. I am not sorry that I cared about you. Every time I see a black Mazda 3 I think about you and I wonder if it is you. I know that I saw you on Atherton a couple of weeks ago, and I almost turned around to follow you. I didn't think I could keep you out of my life for so long. Thanks for not trying to break down the door. I wanted you to. I wanted you to come crawling back on your hands and knees. I wanted you to understand how much pain it put me through to cut you out of my life. I want you to get why I had to do it. We were getting close, but it was too slow for me. You were never right for me. You never will be. I can't change you. I can change myself. I can't control or change another person. You are who you are. I didn't really like your personality very much. I thought you were boring. I feel like I am only saying that to lessen the pain a little bit, but it makes it worse. You are a good guy. You emanate goodness and character. I don't know why. I loved more than anything our dinner at the Italian restaurant in your town. That's the best time we've ever spent together. I was sick the last time you came. I was needy. I wanted to sleep with you so we did. I want to sit down at that restaurant again. I want to stay there. I want to pretend like we don't have lives outside of there. We can joke about the menu and the dress code for the waiters again. I can pretend that I don't want you to kiss me and offer your place for me to stay. But it will end like it always does, like it did. Our memories, our pasts are resigned to themselves. There's no possibility of changing it. The story stays the same every time I run it through my head. You were wearing a Penn State football jersey. I love your athletic side. I had your Nike jacket, and I gave it back. I love that jacket. There was no overt sexual tension. I wanted you to let me stay with you, but you didn't offer. I was leaving, and you asked for a hug. You. Asked. For. A. Hug. You who hate affection and any sort of care shown. You who don't like to hold hands or to be touched or to be hugged and loved on. I still love you, Dan. I think I always will. I don't know why. I am clingy and needy and we would never work. I think you're sturdy, but you don't care enough. You are lacking passion and tenderness. It would take years to get close. You were here for a week. I was tempted to crumple up into a ball when Mark told me that. I wanted to lay on the ground. I wanted to scream and cry. I ended us. I ended our friendship. Was it actually blossoming into something more, or was that just a delusion? I wanted it to keep going. I wanted you to love me. I still want you to love me. I want to hold you and take care of you when you're sick. You're not here anymore. Are you dating anyone? Do you think about me? The pain is sometimes so overwhelming, but I have to remember that you're a figment of my imagination as long as I can't see you. I wanted you to come by when you were here. I want you to fight for me. I want you to realize what an idiot you are for not running after me. I want you to stop in your tracks one day and realize that you want me back. But you won't ever do that. I don't think you ever wanted that. Intimacy scares you. I scare you. I cling to you. I wish our last visit had been better. I hope that we can speak soon. It has been almost 3 months. My blocking you will have expired. Thanks for being.