Friday night overthinking

I’ve been doing a whole lot of thinking lately. Mostly because now I have a whole lot of time. And there’s something that I really wasn’t ready to admit to myself or anyone else until tonight. I was talking with Lilo (as I do often) and she mentioned something. I was saying how sad I was about 21 – because I am still sad. It’s hard not to be sad when something that’s great ends. She then said that she knew that I always liked 21 and that was never in question. But she said that I never loved him.

And she’s right. I didn’t. The more that I think about it, I don’t know if that passion was there. He was wonderful. He was kind and polite and lovely. I was crazy for him and for a while, he was really crazy for me. But, I don’t think the spark was there for us to fall in love. I was waiting for some sign – any sign – that he was the one.

It never happened. He’s not the one. I’m okay with that – or I will be.

I think when I went to Vermont with 21, I was waiting for that moment. I was waiting for the moment when we’d look at each other and I would feel that feeling. Because every time I kissed 21, while it was great? It wasn’t like kissing the guy that I loved. It was just nice. But there weren’t butterflies. There was excitement. There were hiney tingles. But never did I think that it was the most perfect kiss in the history of everything.

I had to admit that. Out loud. Or on my blog. Whatever. I needed to say in some way or another that I did not love 21. And I’m not even sure that’s something I could of done. That’s no fault of my own or of his. He was great. He really was. But he didn’t have everything that I needed. I know that.

It was little things. I don’t think that he could have dealt with my family. I don’t know that he would have been as tolerant of Jamie as I would like. He was a little in the dark about how people deal with being depressed.

Maybe those last 2 hit me the most. The idea of someone that I cared for really deeply and could see myself with not treating Jamie well tore me apart. It was a passing fear, but I had it. I was seriously worried that while this guy would open doors for me when we went out and make me epic Saturday morning breakfasts, he would treat Jamie like a lesser person. I was scared of that. 21 wasn’t exposed to the same things I was. Hell, I would even go as far to say that he had it easy growing up (not that I didn’t, but you know, he kind of had everything handed to him) and I just don’t think he knows how to deal with things. Jamie being one of those things. Him being a dick to Jamie is enough to get him cut out of my life completely. I wouldn’t even think twice about it.

When we were up in Vermont, we were watching SNL and they were talking about Charlie Sheen. 21 made a comment that Charlie Sheen is probably bipolar, then said something along the lines of the fact that it’s not that hard to treat people that are bipolar. He looked at me and asked me if I knew anyone that was bipolar and I just stared at him. I didn’t know what to say because telling him about me would have changed things, I think. Telling him about how depressed I was for most of high school and college. Telling him that I dated a guy that treated me like absolute garbage just because I was at such a low point in my life that I didn’t get out. Telling him that I used to be unable to get out of bed in the morning because that was too much for me. That I had so much issues in high school that I don’t even remember half of what I did. Just the idea of telling him that I need a few pills just to keep me from toppling over some edge that I might not see? I couldn’t do that. And if I couldn’t admit to him the things that I’ve faced that make me that person I am today? How could I tell him anything?

Granted, who I was in high school isn’t who I am now. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. But that person made me who I am now. I am how I am because of what I’ve done and seen and said. To not share that closes off a piece of myself. If I can’t share myself entirely with him, what else would I hide?

There were pieces of myself that I kept hidden. There were things I didn’t say because the timing wasn’t right. Now I wonder if the timing would have ever been right for me to say what I had to. For me to tell him things about myself that I don’t talk about on the internet.

I’m still sad about 21. I will continue to be for a while because it was good. It was good when we were crazy for each other and couldn’t wait to see each other again. It was wonderful when he used to call me the sweetest names ever and smile when he saw me in the morning. It was fabulous when he used to come and surprise me at work and take me out to lunch just because he wanted to see me in the middle of the day. Those things won’t stop being great. But it’s not my reality. I’m not going to think about them anymore. I’m not going to hate them either. I’m going to file them away for when I need a good moment. When I feel low and shitty, I’m going to remember all the good that came from the past 6 months.

The more important thing to remember is that things didn’t work out with 21 for a reason. We’re not together for a reason. I know that the parts of the relationship that needed to be there for us to make it last were missing. That’s okay. It’s okay because this isn’t the end of my story at all. He’s just a small happy chapter – and I’ll be okay with that soon.

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