Somewhere between here and then your relationship started to tremble. You started full of love and enjoyment, excitement. Two happy souls that met by accident. Well, by accident. You didn't live so far away from each other; you shared a couple of your friends, took the same route for running and had the same favourite sushi restaurant. It was like you were destined to meet yet not.
Oh, your first date? Pure chaos, just like you are. Too messy, chaotic. Not a great fit – according to others. Late night talking with a bottle of alcohol, passing touches. Both a bit tipsy and he hugged you from behind. He held you like that for a few minutes before trying to kiss you. You didn't kiss him back. You said: "I don't want to be just another name on the list." You let the talks about him get into your brain. He was quiet, offended – rightfully so. You remember stuttering something because you realised how offensive and rude that was. You were trying to repair the mess you made. You remember you talked about it a few months later and he just laughed. He knew you didn't mean it.
A couple more dates followed. It was great. You were having fun. You were still chaotic, and nothing really made sense. You talked about stupid things. You brought up all the women he dated before you. That one crazy story your friends told you about him. You were so ready to end things on that fifth date, but you couldn't. You wanted to end things, yet you left that date with a smile on your lips and with his cologne all over you.
You celebrated his birthday together. Well, two weeks later because he was away. A bottle of champagne and two glasses. Tipsy lovers. He held you so close to him. You believe he loved you at that moment. For a brief second, you closed your eyes and you felt loved. You felt how he poured his love into you, and you did the same.
But nothing is ever as bright and sound as it seems, no? Colours fade, days get colder, people get bored. Your relationship - cracking and you couldn't stop it. You tried glue, duct tape, sealant. Nothing helped. You observed it from afar as if it wasn't your relationship that was falling apart – piece by piece – a little by little. Cracks. Holes.
You recollect that at your lowest he even stopped kissing you, touching you, complimenting you, reassuring you. Perhaps even loving you. You were going insane – running around hoping you would save it. Save the two of you. Your home – on fire without a way to douse it. He was sitting outside watching it all burn down while you were running around screaming in panic with your hands on your head. Desperate to make it work.
You remember he told me: you're so controlling. Let things just happen to you. You see everything as a big destroying fire when it's just a little harmless flame. It was true. You knew he was right. You were brought up in a household that was already burning and that was where you found comfort – in an inflammable house. It was where you found peace and when the house wasn't on fire. You set it on fire. Because it's so much easier to run away from the house on fire than for a totally healthy stable house. You can justify the self-sabotage to yourself a lot easier.
As the cracks in your relationship deepened, you found yourself caught in a turbulent emotional storm. It was a constant battle between your fear of abandonment and your instinct to protect yourself by sabotaging what you had. You wanted to control the uncontrollable, to prevent the inevitable heartbreak you believed was just around the corner.
The more you thought about it the more you thought he didn't love you, that he didn't care when the only thing he wanted from you was to calm down and take it easy – step by step. Slow and steady instead of fast and furious. A concept you couldn't wrap your head around. You were eager, impatient.
You two ended up breaking up. Perhaps it was for the best at that moment. You needed some time apart. Sometimes, to let that old house burn down completely and then watch it fume. Perhaps you needed this break to learn more about yourself, to understand the roots of your self-sabotaging tendencies, and to heal from the wounds of your past.
As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, you found yourselves thinking about each other more and more. You remembered the moments of joy, the laughter, and the genuine connection you shared. You began to see that perhaps your impulsive actions and fear of vulnerability had played a significant role in the relationship's end.
It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when you grabbed the phone from the kitchen counter and opened your conversation with him. His candid photo you took was on the top of the screen. Below it, his name with a heart. You never deleted it.
Your fingers tremble as you type the message. You read it ten times before hesitantly hitting send and then turning on airplane mode for at least two hours. The message you sent was a simple one, yet it carried the weight of all the emotions you'd been holding. It read, "I miss you." It was a vulnerable admission, a small crack in the emotional armour you had built around yourself.
The hours passed slowly as you waited, your mind racing with doubts and hopes. What if he didn't respond? What if he had moved on completely? But deep down, you held onto a glimmer of hope, a belief that maybe, just maybe, there was still something worth rescuing between you two.
As you eventually turned off airplane mode and checked your phone, you saw that there was a response waiting for you. It was a simple message from him, but it carried a depth of emotion that you could feel through the screen. It read, "I've missed you too."
♥︎daily reminder♥
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