I read some old diary entries tonight, to confirm to myself about
something that happened earlier this week about someone who may have
thought I lead him on almost a year ago. And I guess it got me reading
about the other stuff what was happening almost a year ago.
And I realized that I was forgetting those details. I didn’t remember
some of those talks we had at 2am at Tim Hortons (oh God, I had to wake
up at 6:30 am the next day to TEACH no less!). The details of when I
confessed in my car that I liked him slipped my mind.
It hurt though, to read those entries that had so much hope, so much
optimism and so much expectation and happiness and to know that it was
all going to end so soon. I wish, I really really wish there was some
way to tell myself to keep from falling head over heels so to avoid the
hurt. It’s almost even embarassing to know I was feeling all these
emotions that were…wasted. That everything I was feeling and was so
sure was reciprocated wasn’t.
It wasn’t that he was my first love. It wasn’t like he was the first
one to hurt me. It was just he was the first one that I trusted
hurt me. I let myself become vulnerable and it just bit me in the ass.
I was so sure and I turned out to be dead dead wrong. And I didn’t
understand how I could be so wrong.
So it leads me to tonight. I was lying in my bed, thinking about my
boyfriend and writing about how I wasn’t even sure if he’s into me even
though it’s been more than four months since we got together. I don’t
even know he likes me – much less love me. I find myself with all these
stupid insecurities about a man whose feelings I should be sure of. But
I’m not because I can’t trust myself.
I can’t be sure of anything anymore. Because it could be taken away.
And I don’t want to be so emotionally invested, even though I know I am.
So I keep myself one carefully measured step back because I keep thinking
that at any minute he’s going to leave me. Or he’s going to change his
mind about me. I asked him about it a few times before – why he likes
me, why he’s with me, what he sees in me, does he think I’m pretty. I
know these questions infuriate him and hell, they’d annoy me too. But I
have them – these stupid irrational insecurities. He sees it in me – my
lack of confidence in each other – our relationship. And he’s so
wonderful for putting up with it. And I still can’t bring myself to
just believe that he wants me for me.
Because the last time someone told me he wanted me for me, he lied. He
wanted me for the perfect person I could have been. So how can I
believe this time will be any different?
I’m probably going to read this tomorrow morning and think “wtf was I
thinking?” and throw it in private/protected. I’ll probably sincerely
regret it but what the hell. It’s not like it isn’t the truth. Blah, it’s Friday night. WTF is going to read this crap anyway?