I've written out a new blog post, but I want to preface it by saying that I will no longer be deleting posts. This will be an active log and look into my head. I don't have any agenda or anything. I just want to be able to write, and come back to see it in the future.
Maurissa and I broke up. I felt it coming for a while before it happened, but I figured it was just me being insecure. The other morning, I got so irrationally angry at something so small and petty that I just told her that we were done. I wrote her something longer explaining my position, but the instant I sent it, I started to panic. I didn't want this to be over. I certainly didn't want it to be over through a text message, but the damage was done. I tried saying I was sorry, but I gave her space and time to think about it.
Later in the day, I thought to myself [in a perhaps-subconscious attempt to keep my mood light] that she would almost certainly call during the game. First game of the NBA regular season, of course she'll call. I talked to my brother, and even cracked a joke: "If that bitch calls during the game, I really am going to be done." It was a joke, but as it slipped out of my mouth, I felt it hurt. Perhaps I felt that it really was over.
She didn't call during the game. She called well after I had given up on hearing her voice. We talked, and we yelled, and we fought. I begged for forgiveness and she gave it to me. She just said she couldn't deal with "this" anymore. I never did ask her to clarify. I'm sure I could guess. We ended up getting away from the arguing and talked like civil adults for a few rough minutes. She wants to be my friend, and I'm not sure I can do that.
But here I am. Trying. And I don't just want to be the kind of "friend" that you catch up with every few months. I want to be the friend that I was before we hooked up. Before we ever dated, we had a wonderful friendship. We grew so close, despite mostly interacting through text messages. She would text me a "good morning" every single morning, and as soon as I'd get up, we'd talk all day until she went to bed again. We'd talk about anything and everything. I miss that. I miss the unattached friendship.
Don't get me wrong. I miss her as a lover as well. Of course I do. But that's not the rough part. The rough part is this cloud of doubt telling me that we can never be such good friends again. God, it sucks. I don't even feel sad or depressed. Just numb. I constantly feel like I'm on the verge of tears, but I don't really feel anything. I hope this isn't what she's going through. She needs to smile. She needs to be the person I robbed from the world for such a brief time.
Me? I need to focus on growing as a person. She opened me up and brought out a person I didn't know existed in me. I like this person. But this person isn't someone I'm used to. It scares me. I LIKED being a cynical dickhead. I liked not caring about anything. I think I fell so fast and so hard for her because passion isn't something I'm used to. Not on that kind of level. I pretend that I'm passionate about things, and I suppose I am about some things.
I've never been passionate the way I was [am?] about her. For a short period of time, I lived to watch her smile. The way her eyes would light up when we'd talk would melt my heart. I don't want to keep listing all of those little things. I feel so numb, but thinking about those things will make me want her again, which leads to being depressed that I can't have her.
I want to be her friend. A real friend. Someone she talks to all the time. Someone she comes to when she needs help. I rarely get what I want, but maybe the pieces will fit this time. Only time will tell.
