8.23.29
There are so many things I wish I could say to you. But, in staying true to character, I'm holding back, so far back that you'll never see what it is I'm holding.
I don't think I deserve such a sympathy. Although, that assumes that, if you knew what I was thinking, you'd forgive me. Which might not happen. It might make you hate me more. I wouldn't blame you. I'm not really sure what you saw in me in the first place.
I had a sort-of plan to leave you. It'd flit in and out of my vision, depending on how much I liked you that day. I was still getting to know you. There were a lot of things I liked, and the rest was online. I can't pay attention online. I've described the process to you. But the instant a screen is in the way, I cannot comprehend the way I would in person. God, this sounds like an excuse. And maybe it is, I can't recall. But I feel like when you'd info-dump to me in person, I'd get a sense of it? At the very least, it felt like I was there. Online, it's like you're the video essayist and I'm the camera. To quote what you said, I could be anyone and you wouldn't notice. I suspected that in talking to me, you enjoyed talking more than you enjoyed to me.
I guess that's the first splinter, and it goes both ways, is that digitally there's no real way to tell how much you care. I vaguely suspected you loved me, but I didn't have proof that you loved me in the way I defined it. How do I define love? It's a choice, to find each other in the light and when things go badly, to be by each other's side. I love my family because I see them often and I've known them long enough that I have a sense of who they are when I don't see them. And we're working on stuff together. I can't see you, Evie. I wish I could, but I can't express to you how the digital medium destroys your visage. There's this look you get in your eye, when we're in person, and it says so much even though a single word doesn't leave your mouth. I haven't seen that look in four months. I don't even know if it's real anymore, or if it was something I made up the first time we kissed.
But at the root of it is my issue. You'll never read this so I'll use my esoteric song references. I only wanted you when it was convenient. And I think about this Julia Michaels song, where she says that-- "I like boys with big lips that treat me like shit / who only want my hips when it's convenient for them." I never wanted to be that person, but I became that. And that's part of why I broke it off. I was looking for convenience. You said I stopped seeing you in the past month, and I'll tell you what happened that month: I went back from working 3 days / week to 4, I spent a couple off-days visiting my friends, the power went out, I packed for college, then I went to college, reconnected with old friends, attended club fairs, attended career fairs, applied to jobs, attended classes, and started homework. And that's a lot of stuff that happened, stuff that was beyond my control, and stuff that you think I handled poorly.
"Stuff that you think"-- so I disagree? Yes and no. Yes I handled it poorly, but I think I only could have done it better with foresight. How's one to know that I'd have the middle of the day Tuesday to chat with you? And how could I have predicted that I'd deliberate over an honors' assignment that turned out to be nothing because I could come up with a project later? That says a lot about my character, indisputable things: I wanted to see my friends when I got to school, I try really hard at school and sometimes overdo things. These aren't mistakes I can afford to make when I'm trying to be in a long-distance relationship. You wanted me to try more, and I want my degree. I don't think I could have maintained things in the sorry state they were in, while adding college and a job.
Maybe I would have balanced it by October. But you don't want an October girlfriend, you want a good girlfriend. You asked me if I could be better, but the answer was no. And thus, the answer of whether I'd stay with you is no. I did you a favor.
