I remember when we stayed up late, your arm around me as we listened to the heavy rain pound into the leaves of the tree outside your bedroom window. I was surprised when you asked me to go to a baseball game with your cousin and her boyfriend. You asked if I wanted ice cream to which I replied “Always.” Your cousin said, “I like this one.” I was spending so many nights that you joked about when I was moving in. We went grocery shopping and grabbed lunch with your roommate and his girlfriend. I felt for the first time that I was falling at the right pace – it was fast paced, but you were right there with me. We briefed each other on our past relationships and said we cared about one another.
You began to distance yourself and decided you didn’t want a relationship anymore. I was upset and frustrated at first, but with time I understood, and realized I wasn’t ready either. We agreed to be friends.
We shared fries. You called me late at night asking me to come over because you were lonely. The next day we went to your family barbeque. Your mom called me “pretty Morgan”. One day you needed me, the next I was acting too “girlfriendy”. It never mattered if I needed you. I kept pressing you for a better answer, a better explanation of what you wanted from me. You just kept repeating, “I don’t want a relationship.” I was annoying you. We gave each other some space.
But I missed you. I apologized and acknowledged I could’ve done things differently.
I tried to be what you wanted when you wanted, but I was constantly afraid one more text, one more compliment, would push you further away. You say my dimples are cute. You say we’re seeing each other too much. You can’t keep your hands off of me. I’m being too nice. You smile because I hold the napkin in my hand while I eat, just like you do. I can’t take the back and forth. We stop talking.
A few months later you give me the best apology. It’s everything I ever wanted. You felt guilty. You cared about me but didn’t really know what you wanted and you handled it badly. You wished you’d apologized sooner. You asked me to stay the night. You knew something was wrong so you asked if I was okay. You didn’t pry, you just put your arm around me. I didn't tell you I'd been having nightmares.
The next day you suggest we stay platonic – no more nights together. I tell you I am going through something, but agree maybe it’s best we just be friends so that I don’t lean on you.
We go out to eat. We make dinner together. You always text me back.
With the weight of the nightmares on my shoulders and yours unavailable to cry on, I finally tell my best friends and sister about the abuse I escaped before I met you. How I keep dreaming about the ways my ex hurt me and fear he will again. They cry, they are supportive, they tell me I’m not alone and they love me. I muster up the courage to tell you, to open up about how I felt safe staying all those nights with you after I left him, how you made me happy after I’d been sad for so long. I tell you why I care about you and why I'd loved you. Days go by with no word from you. I reach out, but I already know.
You tell me that it was uncalled for that I tell you any of it. That you don’t want drama and clearly I am incapable of that. The last words from you were “good riddance.”
Whether I misjudged you horribly, you played me, or this is some messed up way of trying to make it easier for me to let you go, I will not be fooled again.