Numbers

One. One game that started it all.

Two. Two pictures that made you notice me.

Three. Three persons involved.

Four. Four times we went out alone.

Five.¬†Five instances of me convincing myself that it was fine as long as I’m happy.

Six. Six friends it took to bluntly tell me the truth of the situation.

Seven. Seven messages from her.

Eight. Eight weeks worth of memories and experiences.

Nine. Nine times I convinced myself to do what’s best for all of us

Ten. Ten in the evening when I told you I’m staying away.

To my It’s Complicated

I write to you the things I wish I could tell you personally but I can’t.

The last 2 months have been great, full of memories and experiences I would treasure forever so thank you. Thank you for the times you made me feel special, for the times you made me feel that you cared. Thank you for bringing out feelings that I’ve never felt before. Thank you for never getting bored of my endless chikas through texts. I was never a good conversationalist so what I lack in talking I make up through texting. Thank you for staying up with me when I had a hard time sleeping (I really have a weird body clock). And thank you for liking me for who I am.

From the beginning, I knew it was never going to work out. It started with the little things: the way you say my name differently, the slight touches here and there. I didn’t mind these little things. But it became more frequent, you were trying to get to know me more. It was as if you were interested in me. But then again, I didn’t mind that. Why would anyone really get interested in me? I was simple and boring, not even attractive.

Things progressed though, we were texting almost everyday. You got to know me more and I think I’ve shared almost everything about me. But that’s it though, we weren’t interacting much, barely had time to really talk to each other due to our situation. I was your secret as you were mine.

It seems like I was narrating everything that happened so I’m just gonna take a shortcut. I got too invested in you. I let myself believe that there was a chance for an “us”. I clung on to the thought that someday I will be your priority not only an option. But it took one post to slap me in the face, making me realize that enough was enough. I was already hurting and if I held on far longer I might be further burned by the situation.

So I’m sorry if I had to end this. I’m sorry if this will make things harder for you. Please understand that I’m having a hard time too. But know that I don’t regret the decisions I made and that I don’t hate you. I have to stay away for my sake and yours, to save myself for further pain and for you to finally make up your mind. If you ever do, I’ll respect whatever it is.

I like you, Beb. And I care for you, I don’t think that will change soon.