I just wanna say thank you.
I used to be so excited for love. Now, thinking about it makes me want to throw up.
I used to revel in the art of getting to know someone. Now, it fills me with a deep dread.
I looked it up. The term for it is "relationship anxiety." It means that, whenever I think about love, I get terrified. And whenever someone approaches me, I can't breathe.
I can't listen to EDM or music from 2012 because the beat is too fast. I used to love that music. I still do.
Technically, it should be because you cut me off for no reason, and cheated on me. It's not the kisses or spooning that hurts. It's that you flirted with him, while you flirted with me.
But there are so many little things.
Sure, every time she tells me she wants me, I think she's talking about someone else.
And sure, every time she mentions her friends, I think she's going to kiss one of them, because they're probably hot, tall boys who are smarter than me and more charismatic and more religious and more athletic.
And sure, I get a sick pleasure from knowing that her current friendships don't satisfy her, because it means she can never do what you did to me, not if I'm the only good option.
But there's more.
It's every time I see a message, and wonder when they're going to stop being genuine.
It's every time she uses an endearing term, and it doesn't feel real, because there's no way anyone could actually think about me like that.
It's every time she compliments me, and I wonder if I said something first, and she's just saying something to be nice.
It's every time I latch onto the little things, like how her accent is different from mine, or how she looks different from me, and try to use those as an excuse, saying that's enough to drive me away.
It's the fact that I'm giving so much time to her, and I gave so much time to you. All that time, which could be spent writing songs or writing books or doing homework. It could disappear.
Then my grades would be worse and my hands would be empty.
Then I'd never be able to finish the books she wrote, even though I bought them.
Then I'd never be able to draw again, because I drew for her.
Sometimes, she does things that reminds me of girls before you. She's not a metaphorical pillow princess like you were; she actually puts in work and has some basic bravery.
She considers herself my mentor. Marlina used to say that. At least she doesn't say "does this make sense," a thing I picked up from her.
I say "call me out" and hide my head behind my hands a lot. Something I got from you.
You know what else I got from you? A fear of commitment. I remember when you used to be afraid of me. At first, I didn't understand why you couldn't separate me from your memory of Ben.
Now I understand. When she does anything like you did, I get terrified.
I guess you just had to pass the gift along, huh?
Strange that I thought I could fall for you. I thought it'd be good for me. I'd finally found a girl who I liked who wasn't straight. You could like me back, I thought.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Now she likes me. She's everything I thought you were: charming, funny, devoted, beautiful, and so damn smart. She thinks I'm all those things, too.
When I was single, I thought that of myself. But, being back in a relationship, I realize that I never got over those insecurities. I just hid them behind a scream of bravado that was loud enough for me to think they were gone.
That's why I felt so empty when I was "happy." Because I wasn't. Your scars were still there, no matter how many roses I drew over them.
I find it so hard to think that she actually believes I'm amazing. Even though I think that of myself. When she says I'm smart, it's reflex for me to assume she just wants to use me as a free tutor--even though she lives on another continent and, naturally, we have no classes together.
She asked me today if there's anything I'm not good at. Strange that I think I'm not good at enough. Probably because you made me think I'm not good enough.
I was smart, but he answered more questions in class and had deeper insights.
I was hot, but his hair is blond and his jawline is more defined.
I was funny, but his relentless teasing and complete disrespect for your pronouns is what you wanted.
I was devoted, but you wanted someone who had been devoted since day one.
I was writing you a love song when you broke up with me. Did you know that? It was about how lucky I felt to be with you. I didn't like churches before I met you. I didn't care for gymnastics before I watched your pear shape flip around. I didn't like soda until you offered me some. I didn't like NF until I walked to class with you and watched you listen to "Paid My Dues."
I didn't like hugs until I felt yours.
Maybe I like her because she's far away. In a way, I can turn her off at any time. Run at any time.
Is this all I want? To run away?
I guess I learned from you.
So, um, thanks for the relationship anxiety. Means a lot.
