Wait.
Please
wait for me.
Is
it unfair of me to ask that of you? Probably.
Would I do the same for you if
you asked? Definitely.
What
started out as nothing very suddenly turned into something. Gradually we became
something more. Eventually, we’re supposed to be everything…I thought you
wanted that too.
If
I look inside, really look inside at how I feel, everything is mixed up,
floating around making me feel sick.
I’m
angry. I’m angry because I feel humiliated. I’m angry because you’re giving up, not giving in.
I’m angry because you may never have been there in the first place. I’m angry because I thought I was different in
your eyes because you treated me like I was. I’m angry at you for the way you
treat me now – like I’m regular, normal, common. I’m angry because I feel replaced. I’m angry
because you won’t admit it. Just admit it. I’m angry that I’m being ignored
which is worse than being told to my face. I’m so angry. At you. At me. At us.
I’m
disappointed. I’m disappointed in you. In your will power, in your
determination, in your lack of commitment. I’m disappointed in me – in my
blindness, in my trust, in my naivety. I’m disappointed in my dreams, my dreams
of us. I’m disappointed in us because I thought we were stronger than this. I
thought we were better than this. You made me feel like we were greater than
this. I’m disappointed in myself for letting you make me feel things.
I
feel helpless because I can’t fix this. I feel out of control. I feel stupid
and small. Insignificant even. Don’t want to seem desperate but that’s how I
feel. I don’t want you to see inside me now. There was a time when I would have
opened up myself to you in a heartbeat, invited you to live inside me, but now
the thought gives me shivers. I don’t want you to see inside me now. I’m too
weak.
And
I miss you. Oh, how I miss you. I finally understand what it means to long for
someone. I’ve always embraced that. I’ve always been open in that. Not anymore.
I would hate for you to know my suffering. You can never know how much I feel. You are not ready. But I was willing to wait.
I was willing to wait until you were ready, until you understood, until you
could handle me. Am I too much? Is that it? Am I not enough…
We
spent so long somewhere between nothing and something that by the time I realised
I was falling, it was too late. And there you were, falling for someone else. Or
something else. Or nothing. I don’t even know what’s worse at this point; all I
know is that I want you to come back. I want you to fall hard, so hard that you
break…and everything comes spilling out. Or wait for me to come back and we’ll
fall together. I want you to fall with me.
I
want you to wait for me.
Please
wait for me.
