Broken Chapter 6

I’ve actually been dreading writing this one, I couldn’t tell you why exactly. It’s been just over a month so I need to tell this story before it disappears from my mind completely. It is ever so slightly, still raw. Sometimes I think I fail at putting how I really feel into words. Maybe it comes across more passionately than I actually feel, maybe it sounds like I feel more than I do. The truth is I’m usually well over someone I dated for a brief time. I think this one really got under my skin.

The feelings are gone but there is still something drawing me back, I’d usually be feeling nothing by now. I bounce back so quickly. Ridiculously hard for me to feel anything and so easy to lose, I can switch myself off and forget someone ever existed.

It was an unexpected match, literally a match on tinder. I think I must have swiped right when I was drunk. It wasn’t uncommon that this would happen. So I was surprised when I got a super like notification, seeing as I’d never had one before. I took a minute to look over his profile. I don’t remember anything especially remarkable or memorable about it. I was slightly taken by his sky blue eyes. I’ve never been a one for looks or vanity, it was definitely his sense of humour that won me over. My memory is absolutely abominable and I’m not going to download Tinder again to get the exact opening line, but I am positive it was something related to Harry Potter in reference to my Slytherin top featured in one of my pictures. It was and always will be the way to my heart.

It didn’t take long till the random spiralling conversations just flowed between the two of us; similar interests, sense of humour and a chemistry that can’t be explained with words. We spoke daily, texting and eventually we would have a daily phone call. Nothing was an effort and we never struggled to make conversation, it was just easy.

Not very long after speaking we met, at this point I had no expectations. I’d been hurt and let down so much lately I had nothing to lose or gain, it would just fill some time. He came to my house because we were both strapped for cash and I didn’t care for going out, making an effort for someone who probably wouldn’t stay around. He was actually thinner and taller than I expected, younger looking with quite the baby face, he’ll hate that I said that.

We watched films, well we didn’t really watch the films, we were so engrossed in the conversations that seemed even more electric in person than on the screen, he had a way of making me laugh so hard my stomach hurt and a way of making me feel calm, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Regrettably I let my hormones get the better of me, I was used to it by then but I did want to resist.

He had a way of touching me even in the most innocent way. With the lightest touch that would have me melting in seconds. The only way I can describe it is, it felt like there was a current of electricity running through my body and wherever he touched, it would spike and make my body convulse.

I retrospect it’s probably that he stimulated my mind, so my body then was easy. The next day I went to meet my mam in town and I half expected to never hear from him again like all of the others before him.

But to my surprise he continued to message and ring me daily, we saw each other every weekend. We only had sex the once, the first time I met him. Other times we would not be able to keep our hands off each other but we resisted, for reasons I will not be mentioning. But he was respectful.

The passion between us was electric, sometimes we would be awkward and laugh for hours, others we wouldn’t have to say a word. Just consumed in the moment and the ease of each other’s presence. It went along so effortlessly, I finally let the walls down slowly with the assistance of his persuasive affection. He was different, affectionate and consistent. I knew where I stood and felt wanted, special for once. It was a nice change from the months of doubt and self hate. After the third week, I felt safe. Like just his presence soothed my anxiety. No heart palpitations, no erratic thought. Just happy.

But obviously as I’m writing this, it was not meant to be. I had to ruin it like I always do. It was inevitable. Things were going so well till I let others in my head, asking me to define what we were and saying I needed to ask.

I also felt like he was feeling a lot more than I was. I was still guarded and not letting myself feel as much as I should have. I could feel him falling for me and I wanted to do the same. So I faked affection, pretended I was letting my guard down more than I had. I thought I was giving him what he wanted.

The last weekend I spent with him I got drunk and bit the bullet to ask him if we were exclusive, but as I always do when in situations involving emotions, I couldn’t get the words out. It was like stuttering and an inability to speak. I wanted to ask if I was the only person he was sleeping with, even though I knew the answer. My insecurities got the better of me. So he finished the sentence with what I never expected.

‘Will you be my girlfriend?’

My stomach dropped, I never expected it. I said yes because it’s what I thought was expected of me, I didn’t want to say it that soon. I wasn’t ready. The next day things were strange and awkward. You could tell something had shifted in the air.

My insecurities got what they wanted, but it ruined what had been going well and left a bitter taste in my mouth. I think he stayed that day out of a curtesy. I could tell it wasn’t what he wanted either. I did only what I thought would fix it and took it back over text. Asking if we could go back to how we were before and he agreed. For a week, things were slightly different. Still talking to me but it felt like it was forced and strategic. The paranoia came in, and I questioned everything.

The next weekend we were meant to go out as a group, his friends and mine, but my friend didn’t want to come. So he said he wouldn’t bring his friends out with me on my own. He wouldn’t have cared before. I was hurt because it was my first weekend off in a while and he knew how much that meant to me.

It was more the fact I knew he was slipping away from me, rather than going out. So I got blind drunk and went out briefly to the bar we were meant to be going to. I arranged to meet another guy I had been speaking to. I can’t explain why it is what I do when I’m hurt but it is always filling a void with another thing. He wasn’t there, it was a good job because I was a mess. A bottle of whiskey straight on an empty stomach wasn’t the best idea. But that’s what did it, we spoke briefly the next day then nothing.

I was more hurt by him ghosting me than anyone else because he knew how much I'd been hurt in the past, he was the only person I let in in such a long time. After a week or so of being frozen out I wrote a message to him, quite in detail saying how I didn’t expect this from him and that I knew it was my fault. I won't go into detail how the conversation went but I felt like I was putting it to bed and I was seeing hidden messages behind what he was saying. Sensing hope and like there was some feeling underneath the blunt messages. That’s when I realised I liked him, the idea of him not being in my life anymore made me feel what I can only guess other people could say is sadness.

I showed my friends the messages and they explained that I was thinking into it too much, that he was pretty much done with me. Something I knew deep down, but the beauty of my anxiety is it twists everything round, self-doubt and lies.

The best thing was to turn myself round and switch myself off, I tried to numb myself with booze. Anything to try and fill the void. I slipped a few times and messaged him. I don’t really want to go into so much detail of the weeks that followed, I went ever so slightly off the rails. As you can tell by the way I've spoken in the past paragraph it is still difficult to put into words, sometimes I just can't express how I feel. It's a conflicting feeling of wanting and enjoying being free, independent, and the other of feeling like I miss what we had, or the absence of attention/affection.

We’ve recently spoken, briefly for a day. Things haven’t changed but for a couple of hours it felt like things hadn’t changed. Still laughing and the easy conversation, I missed him slightly, or missed the way we were. If I hadn’t pushed things, it could have been different by now. Things can never be pushed or changed no matter how much you want them to.