One part of me is sincerely upset and another part of me is relieved.
We go on our first date this weekend and you’re a complete sweetheart. You’ve told your parents about me they invite me for dinner, I know your family and we come from similar cultural backgrounds. I’ve had the biggest crush on you for years and finally, you’ve given me a chance. I’m just in heaven being able to spend time with you. It’s pathetic.
The entire night, we talk about us. We talk about the stupid things you want each other to know both good and bad. You tell me about your battle with depression and I tell you about mine. You talk about your ex and I talk about mine. We’re cool. Except you just don’t stop. I can tell you still really have feelings for her despite you saying that you don’t. When she calls, I know you want to talk to her. It wouldn’t have bothered me really.
The night goes great. Meet some cool people, have fun, whatever. We exchange a few kisses in the car before we depart for the night and it just felt right. I wished it didn’t end. So we text each other all night. I text you in the morning and you’re cute and woke up at noon because you were so exhausted.
Then you don’t answer my texts all day….or night…or the next day. Cool. I get the message and I leave you alone. But now I see you’re in a relationship? Is it with your ex or someone else? If you didn’t like me, just tell me. I’m an asshole I bounce back. But goddamn. The jealousy for one is eating me alive and the pure hatred and anger for you in unbarible. I wish it was me but it was too good to be true. We’re not at the same level. You’re attractive and I’m average. You wonder why I was talking to your friend that’s not so attractive, well that’s why. Assholes like you always pull this shit.
So I’m crying, who cares, right? I care. This hurts. It hurts a lot but I wish you the best.
