Sunday, August 28, 2011

that love story isn’t ours


I think I may actually be over him. It just happened about five minutes ago. I can’t really explain it; I was looking through some old pictures of us in Italy and Paris together, and was staring at his face. That face. That gorgeous face. I actually zoomed in a little. But when I looked, when I really looked, and reminded myself of all the things he’s done, and all the pain he’s caused, that face got…uglier. Feels taboo just writing it. Feels like an almost lie. But you know how people say that a beautiful person can become ugly with their personality? I think that just happened for me.

I reminded myself of how he ignored me over Winter break, didn’t even call on Christmas. I reminded myself of how after a year and a half together he broke my heart and then started seeing Sara, my friend, our friend, just a few weeks later. That that was selfish and thoughtless and desperate. I reminded myself that I would never do those things to him.

I reminded myself of the times he’s been cold, the many times I’ve felt so alone, on my side of the bed, even though he is right there sleeping next to me. I reminded myself of the back and forth game he has played with me since we broke up, saying he wanted to get back together and then backing out. How he drove me home in tears after lunch with his parents and didn’t even bother to text me later on or see how I was doing, after we had just slept together the entire weekend before. How much that hurt me. How he came down for the fourth of July and we slept together again because he told me that the weekend and us being together would “clear up the confusion.” How it didn’t clear up anything. How he implied that we weren’t really one hundred percent broken up…reminded myself when I said broken up couples don’t do this and he said but that’s not completely where we are at. I reminded myself how we are broken up and how that is completely where we are at.

Now, I am thinking about what a fool I’ve been. How I want to be with him just for the sake of being with somebody. Now I am thinking about how one small mistake, like getting back together, could ruin a bit more than I wanted to admit.

Andrew, you were a lovely person to me once. Smart and funny and so beautiful. Now you are not so beautiful. You’ve done it, you’ve really done it. Broken my heart, and half-assed picking up the pieces. Now I think there’s just about a slim to none chance things will ever work out between us. Because I deserve better than someone who has to take half a year to figure out what they want. Because I deserve better than someone who is scared. Because I deserve better than someone who doesn’t want to be with me right now, this minute, no matter what the future brings, even if they are stuck with me forever.

I usually fall for the sappy love story where the two broken hearts realize how much they love each other, and get back together in the end. I usually want to be the leading lady in that love story. Sorry that love story isn’t ours. Sorry it never will be.

Except I’m not sorry at all.