unfinished letter

I write this letter because I am a coward, and this is the most cowardly way of screaming all that burdens me. Here where no one will probably read it, I can just unload all my fears and anxieties, all the shit that has just brought me down so badly. I love her, and she doesn’t feel the same way. At least that’s what she told me once, before I just had to stop. Before I did I asked her once more if she ever felt anything, and once more all she could muster was a connection.  It hurts, because I refused to believe her. I am that stupid. 

I don’t know why my heart (and for a while my brain) refused to believe her. But she was in a way telling me the truth, and I wasn’t entirely wrong. Because I know her, she has let her pain define her. Why do I know? I did the same thing, for a long time I closed my heart to anyone, if someone got as close as the gates, I’d run the other way. I never gave anyone a chance to pry too much into me, I liked it that way. I was pretty good at pretending to be open and transparent, but it was all a ruse, just me playing at being normal. 

But then I met her and it all changed. Slowly she pried my heart and soul open, bare for her to judge. All I wanted was to get laid, sex was all I thought I wanted and hoped to get. But that’s not how we work, and like the best plans of mice and men, I failed. I got laid, but I fell in love. Knowingly, why do I say that? I knew, always, that she could probably never reciprocate my feelings; and the more I got to know her, the deeper I fell. And my certainty grew. She can’t love you, I told myself, she has issues, and she doesn’t want your help. I know you can’t change people, but you can help them try to be better, but she won’t let me. That’s why I know she’s not being completely honest about us. 

And I can’t do anything about it, but vent here and cry myself to sleep. Because I can’t leave her out of my life, all she can offer me is friendship. And that’s going to have to be enough, but it’s difficult to live with this pain. I am constantly lashing out at people, hating everything, except her, that’s not a way to live. Even if she’s far from perfect, there’s just something about her that makes me want to be with her; she’s really the only one who makes me believe I can be better. 

I fucked it up; because I told her I loved her. Not that I lied, but all I did was out of fear. The fear of losing her forever, I thought it could force something. And all I did was push her away. What could I really offer her?  Nothing, I was nobody. All I could do is give her promises. After all she, as well as I, had been through, promises where nothings that would only make us suffer more. But I was desperate. And stupid, and I fucked it up. 

Every night it’s the same, every morning a rerun. I want to hold her in my arms, feel her warm lips on mine. Feel the heat rise as our body inch closer, and look into her eyes and see that fire again. Those eyes that you see only when someone has a deep desire and want for you, and more, truly a connection; then just see that smile as our lips pat for a moment, that smile that my heart knows that I am one of the lucky few who have had that favor bestowed upon them.

All I want to do is be next to her, why everything makes sense when she’s around is something I can’t really understand. But she calms me; with her I can stop over thinking this fucked up world and just live. But live, how? Just as coward laying in bed and feeling sorry for myself? As a fool who asks others to sacrifice themselves for him, when he isn't willing to do the same? Wait for life to bring us back together? Those are not the answer. But I do have to fight, I do have to risk it all. I will find a way, because I'm tired of running away from humanity, I want to be with her.