The Distance

So this is how life goes. Shit happens and we are left to just react to these shitty occurrences and hope that we don’t get hurt along the way. But what happens when we do get hurt?

With you, I had no doubt in my mind that there was something else there. That you felt the same way. I never would have, drunk or not, told you how I felt if I didn’t feel so confident and sure. But I obviously am horrible at reading situations and we both know how everything played out.

The next day, we were left to pick up the pieces. Or rather, I was. I could already feel the distance being created at this point. You were slowly fading away and I was determined that this wasn’t how everything was going to end.

So we still communicated and I still cried and we still tried to understand where to go from here. We said we still were friends and that nothing had changed, but this was not true. So much had changed and as much as I didn’t want it to be true, I knew the end was inevitable.

For starters, I felt hurt every time I was around you and the conversation shifted to you and whatever girl you were chasing. I felt hurt as I heard you talk about the situation, occasionally looking at me, knowing my rejected heart was still recovering. You talked and fawned, and I sat silently hoping the conversation would die eventually. The conversations would, eventually, die, but so would a part of me, feeling the final nails in our coffin being put in.

Last night was probably the worst. I have reached my quota of emotions for the week, between you and everything else that seems to be falling apart in my life right now. I needed a break and I thought last night was finally going to be it.

I started feeling a shift when she got in the car. The girl you’ve been ignoring but conveniently declared feelings for was riding in the backseat of my car and I could feel my heart sink a little as we pulled up to the house. This was the end. The end of my feelings and the hope that maybe you would realize you actually did feel that way. As much as I wanted to put faith in you, that you wouldn’t do anything in front of me, I was let down. Let down for the umpteenth time by you. Just another moment in the long line of disappointments surrounding you and your actions and my reactions and my feelings.

You openly acknowledged your feelings about her and beckoned her to go outside and “talk” and I sat mystified on the floor, having an out of body experience, as the world kept moving around me. So many emotions welling up inside of me, some sad and some tired. I was hurt by you, but also tired of feeling this hurt. Tired of taking everything personally.

So what is a broken-hearted girl to do when she still wants to be friends with the guy who broke her heart in the first place?

She let’s go. Let’s go of her feelings and of the friendship. At least for a time. Distance has to be created. This distance is needed in order to let the flame die, or at least subside a little. My heart, as much as it wanted you, needed distance from you even more. After watching you openly do things that would hurt me, I knew then that you did not really think about anyone else besides yourself.

Call it me being bitter or call it whatever you would like, but I know you. I know you could tell that your actions would hurt me. You are not a dumb ass. But you did them anyway, as if that would be your only opportunity. So I know now where I stand, and because of this, I am going to take a few steps back and give myself more room to figure my own head and heart out.

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