I know this.
I've always known this.
But how the fuck could I have been *so* wrong?
Because I wanted it.
Because I deluded myself into seeing things in him that weren't there?
It was there.
He knew me.
he was it
But then.... things changed.
He wanted my figment. He wanted the pretty little picture in his head.
he wanted the strain he felt in his fingertips when he tried to reach for me.
he wanted the need.
When I was there, touchable.
When I was there, giving.
When I was there, fulfilling..
he didn't want me anymore.
I'd gone and started loving him... but he didn't want me anymore.
He sent me a link today. To an article. About the man who murdered the girl he was in love with two years ago.
The man who kidnapped, raped, and murdered her, dumping her naked by the side of the road was sentenced to death.
I feel for him.
I feel for him in a way he will never feel for me.
Because there's a big part of his heart that's dead.
It's not just sleeping, it won't be awakened by the right touch. He can be passionate.. but only about the things that are external. Only about the things that are worldly.
He can't even talk about how he feels. Not even with someone he's completely comfortable with. I know because I was that person for awhile. he told me things he'd never talked about before.
But I should have known something was up...
because I never opened up that much to him. I always kept something reserved. Even in the early part when we really were just friends... I must have known he would hurt me.
I used to be jealous of the girl he still occasionally slept with. Tiffany. I used to be so utterly jealous of her. But now... gaddamned I feel so sorry for her. She was the one after Jamie. She got to feel it full force.
He's taken enough drugs and had enough lovers in between then and when he found me to be able to find comfort in something other than her. And I know how strange and hard and broken he was still.
I feel sorry for Tiffany. So sorry.
I wonder if he learned anything from me. I wonder if he sometimes just smiles. Or misses my insights, my voice. I was an incredible friend. I was excellent.
That's all I really wanted from him. An incredible friend.
But now he can't even pretend to be comforting. Not even when I really need it.
He spews motivational pabluum and moves on.
I didn't need a fairy tale lover who lived X amount of states away and who couldn't really pay me enough attention for my needs. What I did need... what I do need... is the friend he promised me with all our conversation. The person he hinted at being when he made his 3 am confessions about his life, his fears. The person who could make life while he pissed me off. Astonish me with his intelligence and the exact some moment he was astonishing me with his innocence.
I miss the person I met when he didn't even realize he was introducing me to him.
Even more than I normally would because I know that I will never ever get him back.