Sunday, February 24, 2008
i haven't written in like 2 weeks. mainly because the same sentiments remain. i mailed a package to steve containing the customized m+m's, his album insert, and a letter. the letter was probably a stupid idea. because i feel like i have nothing to lose, in it i confessed that he is and has been the man of my dreams since the early days of our friendship. i admitted that i have hope that we may someday rekindle the spark between us. probably a lot of crap that will earn me an email or a phone call telling me that what i had to lose was our friendship. and that i've lost it. i sent the package priority mail on wednesday afternoon. the post office lady said it would arrive thursday or friday. if this is true, he could have picked it up at the PO today. but i got no word from him on having received anything. so either he hasn't retrieved the package or doesn't want to let me know he got it. maybe he is thinking of how to put it lightly that we shouldn't be in touch anymore. the least he could do is thank me for spending $60 on some stupid m+m's.
the thing is, had i not written this letter to him and sent it, i would feel like i never had the chance to express to him exactly what i had felt and do feel. and i'm sure i would have regretted that. so i went ahead and sent it. really, i had nothing to lose. i don't exactly feel like we're friends right now, i feel like last time we talked he made a lot of excuses as to why he isn't in touch and that signals to me that the effort isn't there and will not be there. which is ok. maybe he doesn't want to be friends. maybe he doesn't feel for me what he claimed to have felt. obviously i didn't deserve such a wonderful guy. this is apparent.
for six weeks i consistently wondered what i'd done to deserve the affection of the man of my dreams. at times i thought things were too good to be true. i had to constantly remind myself that what was happening was really real, and that he actually liked me. but now it's gone. i had the chance to make him mine, and i blew it. i wasn't enough. i wasn't good enough. i'll never be his perfect girl, though he is my perfect boy.
life's like that, i mean, life is a big game. fucking with my head. that's the purpose of my existence. i don't understand exactly why the gods need to constantly fuck with me, but they do. i think i'm a good person. i think i do the right thing most of the time. i think i rise to the occasion when it is required. i feel like i gave stephan jones a huge part of me, a part of me that i thought was dead, and he didn't want it. he rejected it.
maybe he was honest. maybe he's not a well enough person to sustain a relationship. maybe it's all the things that had happened causing him to need to do all this work and not do it with me in the picture. but i can't believe that. it is my firm belief that if you want something badly enough, you make it happen. and he didn't. he didn't want it badly. he didn't want it at all. he said he did. he said sometimes you have to balance what you need with what you want. and sometimes what you need outweighs what you want. but i don't know. all i know is that i gave him all i could and it wasn't enough. because i'm a failure and i haven't earned the right to have someone i admire, respect, and truly deeply care for.
it's just that all i wanted was to share in the good and provide support when things were bad. i just wanted to be happy and make him happy. i made him a crossword. i baked a pie, cookies. i made dinner. i was there for him when he felt like drinking. when we cuddled, i always stroked him hair or traced patterns on his skin. but what i really can't reconcile is that look. the look that i would have mistaken for love if i didn't know better. it's etched in my brain, deconstructing harry on the tv, my head on his lap. i look up and kiss him. we're kissing. he stops, he looks. searching my eyes, brushing my hair from my eyes. just looking, searching, i couldn't help but smile. i felt like the luckiest girl on the planet that night. nothing could have ever made me imagine that our days were numbered to ten from that day forward.
i constructed an entire future on unstable ground and then i was surprised when it crumbled before my eyes. i created truth out of fiction and was surprised when the ending wasn't the way i had imagined. life doesn't mimic hollywood, and by now i should know that no perfect ending lies in my future.
i guess i'm still in shock. i guess i didn't realize that the repercussions of my emotion could cause me to drown. i didn't expect this although i should have.
i'm not crying anymore. it's been four days. i've been pretty fucked up for the majority of those days, though, and so i'm not sure it counts. and that letter was an integral part of letting go. this week on one tree hill peyton said "the most perfect act of love is sacrifice." so i release you, stephan jones. i release you though my feelings for you will always be strong. i'm letting you go so you can have yr life, find yr perfect girl. and i'm sacrificing myself, my happiness, the only future i believe is right.
and i think i'd rather die alone than with anyone but you.
the thing is, had i not written this letter to him and sent it, i would feel like i never had the chance to express to him exactly what i had felt and do feel. and i'm sure i would have regretted that. so i went ahead and sent it. really, i had nothing to lose. i don't exactly feel like we're friends right now, i feel like last time we talked he made a lot of excuses as to why he isn't in touch and that signals to me that the effort isn't there and will not be there. which is ok. maybe he doesn't want to be friends. maybe he doesn't feel for me what he claimed to have felt. obviously i didn't deserve such a wonderful guy. this is apparent.
for six weeks i consistently wondered what i'd done to deserve the affection of the man of my dreams. at times i thought things were too good to be true. i had to constantly remind myself that what was happening was really real, and that he actually liked me. but now it's gone. i had the chance to make him mine, and i blew it. i wasn't enough. i wasn't good enough. i'll never be his perfect girl, though he is my perfect boy.
life's like that, i mean, life is a big game. fucking with my head. that's the purpose of my existence. i don't understand exactly why the gods need to constantly fuck with me, but they do. i think i'm a good person. i think i do the right thing most of the time. i think i rise to the occasion when it is required. i feel like i gave stephan jones a huge part of me, a part of me that i thought was dead, and he didn't want it. he rejected it.
maybe he was honest. maybe he's not a well enough person to sustain a relationship. maybe it's all the things that had happened causing him to need to do all this work and not do it with me in the picture. but i can't believe that. it is my firm belief that if you want something badly enough, you make it happen. and he didn't. he didn't want it badly. he didn't want it at all. he said he did. he said sometimes you have to balance what you need with what you want. and sometimes what you need outweighs what you want. but i don't know. all i know is that i gave him all i could and it wasn't enough. because i'm a failure and i haven't earned the right to have someone i admire, respect, and truly deeply care for.
it's just that all i wanted was to share in the good and provide support when things were bad. i just wanted to be happy and make him happy. i made him a crossword. i baked a pie, cookies. i made dinner. i was there for him when he felt like drinking. when we cuddled, i always stroked him hair or traced patterns on his skin. but what i really can't reconcile is that look. the look that i would have mistaken for love if i didn't know better. it's etched in my brain, deconstructing harry on the tv, my head on his lap. i look up and kiss him. we're kissing. he stops, he looks. searching my eyes, brushing my hair from my eyes. just looking, searching, i couldn't help but smile. i felt like the luckiest girl on the planet that night. nothing could have ever made me imagine that our days were numbered to ten from that day forward.
i constructed an entire future on unstable ground and then i was surprised when it crumbled before my eyes. i created truth out of fiction and was surprised when the ending wasn't the way i had imagined. life doesn't mimic hollywood, and by now i should know that no perfect ending lies in my future.
i guess i'm still in shock. i guess i didn't realize that the repercussions of my emotion could cause me to drown. i didn't expect this although i should have.
i'm not crying anymore. it's been four days. i've been pretty fucked up for the majority of those days, though, and so i'm not sure it counts. and that letter was an integral part of letting go. this week on one tree hill peyton said "the most perfect act of love is sacrifice." so i release you, stephan jones. i release you though my feelings for you will always be strong. i'm letting you go so you can have yr life, find yr perfect girl. and i'm sacrificing myself, my happiness, the only future i believe is right.
and i think i'd rather die alone than with anyone but you.
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