You don't need me anymore–my help, my support, my encouragement. You're
independent.
I know I should be happy for you, but I can't be entirely. It's a hard thing to stomach. Especially when you've used this breakup as an opportunity to better yourself, while I'm still here, dependent as ever, suffering from the draining effects of unrequited love.
I realize now what's most important to me in any relationship: communication. Without it, I'm lost. I don't know where I stand, and my imagination becomes my defeat, transforming me into a neurotic toxin plagued with jealousy and fear. I question my place and search for attention and ravish what little I'm rewarded with. I become someone else, someone I never want to be.
Perhaps that's what's plaguing me now–the lack of communication. You don't talk to me, so I never know if my presence is welcomed or if I'm just as annoying as the pestering callouses on my feet that I can never quite get rid of. And when we do talk, I never know where I stand.
Our relationship is always evolving, and I just can't keep up. Friends? BestFriends? FriendsWithBenefits? Acquaintances?
Strangers?
We talk, and you can read every insecurity whirling its destructive path through my mind. While I wait for some hint, some idea as to what's going through that beautiful head of yours, but my efforts only lead to an exhausting dead end of confusion.
I'm clueless.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Moments
Roman d'amourThis isn't a story about love. Well, at least it doesn't look like it right now. It's just me. I don't think there's enough out there about what happens when that love ends. What does it look like to be raw and vulnerable? What does it feel like to...
