This is a long post, but I NEED to write it. I’m sorry.
I’m very glad I didn’t write this post straight away, mainly because at the time I was running on high emotion. I nearly scrapped this idea, but I might as well write it all down. It’s time I did.
I’m going to tell you a story. It’s something that has affected me EVER since it happened, in ways I know and ways I don’t. Put it this way, it fucked me over for a long time and some of the pain still remains, I guess.
I’ve been in two relationships. The second… That deserves a post of it’s own. But after it ended, I was pretty upset. To be honest, I shouldn’t have been, but I liked the guy – even if breaking up with me was what he had to do and I fully accepted – and even was glad – for that.
After that happened, he left our group, which hurt MUCH more. I get it now – oh for fuck’s sake, let’s go on a little meander.
He broke up with me because he was gay. I have NO issue with that, but what really cut me up was how he left our group. Hated him for 7 months, then I got over myself, and I SUPPOSE we’re friends? Nah, but we talk. Sometimes. I was also upset because he didn’t tell me directly, but I don’t want to go into that yet.
Point is, I’d just had my heart broken. And WHENEVER that happens, I ‘rebound’.
Okay. Say you’re running at a wall, and there’s NOTHING you can do to stop yourself from smashing into it. It might take longer, sometimes, but it’s inevitable. You collide with the wall with such force that you bounce back, and the cycle continues – on and on and on and ON AND ON. That is what always happens.
I rebounded and latched onto somebody… Let’s call him Rowan. (Yes, I know I have another Rowan floating around somewhere in my blog, but they have the same RL name. This is the important Rowan).
Rowan is funny. Hilarious. Light. Carefree. THAT is why I latched onto him, I suppose. I needed somebody.
The infatuation lasted for about 6 or 7 months, until it all went wrong.
I look back on our Facebook messages and cringe. Or I DID – I’ll explain in a minute. We talked about homework. Schoolwork. NOTHING ELSE. And you know, I HONESTLY thought I had a chance! It makes me laugh now. Not scorn, but just in fond horror. There were nice memories in RL, of course, but barely any.
5 April 2014. It’s funny how I remember that. I had gone to Willow’s house – Pine was there too.
And we told him. Through Facebook.
Pine and I had been dropping hints for ages. AGES. It was quite pathetic, really. Juvenile. I think I’d just had enough, at that point. Pine asked this:
“Have you figured out who likes you yet?”
No reply. 20 minutes later:
I swear to God, I waited until the next day. It was so, so awful. I acted like I wasn’t bothered. In the morning, I sent him this:
“Oh shit, they told you didn’t they? Hate them sometimes… Crap.”
And yes. That is memorised.
I have never received a reply. He also blocked Pine (she’s unblocked now).
Doesn’t it seem trivial? I know.
But this is why I’m terrified. This is why I always asked Ash if he hated me. This is why when he said he didn’t want to be friends in Easter, right to me, I appreciated it. I THANKED him for telling me the truth. It hurt so, so much, but I needed the honesty. This is also why I’m so miserable right now, because Ash and I haven’t spoken, and it’s a tiny bit like Rowan ALL OVER again. This time, though, I have NO idea what Ash thinks of me. ENOUGH of that! Don’t need that right now.
This is why when I think about telling Birch, or even ASH, how I feel, I remember that. I remember the fear and the uncertainty and not wanting to face him at school, and being unable to cry about it and hating him. I don’t hate him now – I just couldn’t – but I still resent him for never, ever addressing the issue. Then again, neither did I.
I remember Wren telling me that she’d asked him, “Hey Rowan, you REALLY don’t like replying to messages, do you?” VERY pointedly.
I remember Wren telling me that he’d replied, “Look, she just wouldn’t leave me alone. I wanted her to stop messaging but she never did. I found her annoying.”
And THAT is where my fear stems from, guys. The need to know if people like me. The freak out when they don’t TELL me they hate me.
On 5 April 2015, I deleted all our conversations. I had no feeling of freedom once I’d done it, but there isn’t too much pain when I look back now.
It’s his birthday today.
For the first time in 1 year, 3 months, and one day, I contacted him. Just to say happy birthday.
We had a short conversation – VERY short – but still, I can tell we’ve both changed. I don’t think I like the changes in either of us, to be honest. Then again, I don’t know him any more; I never did.
I feel sad. Really sad. I often have memories of what COULD have been. I could never, ever love him; he’s a user and someone who is a bit of a plank, and I fully accept that. I fully accept my stupidity.
I just remember the past, and the days and weeks spent talking about him, THINKING about him.
It’s taught me things. It’s taught me to be more cautious, and more sensitive.
I know that it was a very long time ago, and the issues I still have should be gone by now. They aren’t, though. It may seem a tiny thing to you – I got rejected ONCE. That’s hardly grounds to be terrified of being rejected again. Sadly, for me, it is.
Many people have it MUCH worse than I do. I think, though, that I needed to feel the pain. I’m making it worse for myself right now, but I need to remind myself.
That is why I have an inability to ‘ask out’ anybody. Very stereotypical, but I’m too scared of being blanked, COMPLETELY ignored, like last time.
You learn something from EVERY experience you have. My advice to you is this: don’t not do something. That’s SO hypocritical of me to say, but like I said, you learn from everything. Even if it’s bad.
THAT was my pathetic excuse for “advice”. I’m getting worse at it.
Thank you for reading. Sorry about all that; I just needed to tell the FULL story for once.