the silence of your heart

“I’m scared to break down this wall. I feel like there are things I want to say but can’t.”

“You can tell me anything.”

This was the conversation I started that made both of us question it all. And I keep circling back to the fact of – should I have said something? Would it have been better to never say anything at all?

Over the past few years, my mind replays vivid memories. Moments, crisp, and in color of times where I said or did things because of what my heart felt. These snapshots of my life make me question. Is it me? Am I the reason things are the way that they are?

I thought you were strong enough in your feelings for me. But you wrote in a letter essentially they were a lie. For months. And you broke my heart. We weren’t even dating and you broke my heart. For the second time. And I don’t know if it will be the last or if everything is amplified by quarantine or what is on my mind.

But I know that every day there’s still a little voice in me that’s telling me maybe you’ll come around. That you’ll give me the chance to get to know you again. And maybe we won’t fall in love or we’ll be best friends or something entirely different and that’s perfectly okay. I just want to be your friend. I want you to let me back in your life. But it’s pretty hard to do when you said you want to re-evaluate.

Re-evaluate what exactly? Us? Me? You said it wasn’t anything against me or us so then what was it? You said not to take it personally but it has to do with literally only me. How can you be okay while I’m so torn living day to day just wishing you to come back to me, to fight for our friendship?

This isn’t the first time I waited for you. I waited and waited and you never showed. You never fought. Your heart showed me silence. And here I am in the same pattern that it was three years ago yet entirely different.

How can I care about you so much after all that you’ve hurt me and the tears that I’ve cried over you? How can I be okay with the fact that if you called me right now to come to see you, I would? Even though I shouldn’t?

How can the idealist be so okay with ignoring the realist and wanting so desperately to salvage something that was once so beautiful? Do we exist? Do you really want to cut me out of your life especially in a time like this?

Despite everything I say or the front I put up, life is so challenging for me right now and I feel like I can’t even tell you. You don’t tell me, so I have no idea what you’re thinking and feeling.

Let me back in your life, S. Open up. Give me a chance to get to know you again.

I can’t make you want me and that is a fact that terrifies and saddens me simultaneously. From us lately, I’ve just felt immense disappointment. I can’t quite figure out what changed or when for you exactly. Was it all fake? How much was a lie that you were convincing yourself? I hate this uncertainty. At the very least give me closure. You were ready to not write us off so quickly yet here you are being rash. You came home for a week, and knew I was too, yet didn’t want to see me – which was a slap in the face. When did the switch flip?

Am I hopelessly imagining here? Did the feelings I felt for you just produce from my imagination? Should I stop trying? Am I fighting for someone who wants nothing to do with me, even simply as just a friend? How much do you actually care?

I have so many questions and all I want is to talk to you.

To ask you.

To make my heart hurt just a little less. 

You want space and I have to respect that. But it is killing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can do this. You are pushing me so far away that I simply do not know how we will bounce back from this.

Do you miss me? Did you ever care as much as I did? Does this hurt you as much as you know that this is killing me? Why couldn’t you wait to talk about this in person? Why didn’t you even want to see me? What did I do to deserve this? Why are you doing this to me?

The world is never going to be the same. You know I would have done anything for you. You know that you could have trusted me with anything. You know that I loved you unconditionally in a way I can’t quite put into words despite everything we’ve been through. You know that had you said you didn’t have feelings, that you didn’t want to be more than just friends, that you didn’t want us to change, that I would have respected that no questions asked from the start.

Now, I sit in my kitchen teary-eyed as the night fades to darkness, still innocently waiting for a text that will never come. I find myself asking the one consistent question tumbling through the hollow voids of my mind.

Why are you willing to throw away us so easily?

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