Go and meet other people

“Go and meet other people” that was what you said that day. “I’m yours” I stuttered, “ I feel that I am yours”. “you are delusional, this is wrong, you are not mine nor anyone’s else”. How I wish this was a compliment, but it wasn’t. How did you manage to build such high walls between us? Are you really enjoying torturing me? All what I need is to convince myself that we are just friends, we meet to chat and waste time. So “I’m not yours” I’m just a friend who helps you wasting time. Why would I meet “other” people, I was not looking for love, and I am not keen to replace you by “other” people, and you know this. I am not sure if you really mean what you are telling me, or these are just free advices that are ready for consumption.

 “Face the reality” that was what you said, but was there anything real about us. Everything was surreal, how we met, how I loved you and how you decided to control your feelings. I am facing the reality every day, right now, I am swallowed by a massive abyss of love. It hurts, yes , love hurts. I love you and I want to call you and say “I love you”. I have never thought about these things before. What is the significance of informing someone that you love him? Specially that he will either keep silent, or give a long lecture in logic, responsibilities and how feelings are controlled. So how can I control my feeling? I need a practical tip here, how can I control that strong feeling of love? Ok, I understand that I should not call or send a message…… I am not sure that I will be able to do this. I think that a message will be sent, or even a phone call where I will say anything except what I really want to say “I love you”.

I blame myself millions of times everyday, I suffocated you, you panicked, I pushed you, you panicked, I bored you and you panicked. Who would bear the continuous recurring never ending pestering of a lunatic, a middle-aged man who was suddenly struck by love? I did not act as a middle-aged man, there was not a single inch of wisdom or even sensibility, but rather a needy restless teenager. I blame myself for ruining the whole story, pulling the end too fast, and exposing all my feelings too early. But I have never been in that realm before, never knew how these tactics are decided and how can a lover stick to a plan. I screamed “I love you” many times more than I should have done, but I was hit by strong crude splashes of love. I have told you these things many times before, but I can’t stop repeating myself, I can not let our story, my story be forgotten.