u/Shit_HowDoIFixThis

I don’t care who reads this. I don’t care if there’s an answer. I just need to write this down and for people to see it. Or y’know. If no one sees it that’s also okay. I’m sorry this is so long, I just have a lot to say. It's pretty vague, so if anyone has any questions, please feel free to ask, I've given up on secrets here

As these stories go, we were young. We were in school. I had technically first met her in my English class the year prior. We never really talked then, but I knew her name and her face. She wasn’t even an acquaintance. I didn’t have a thing for her. I didn’t really have even a passing thought about her. No, I, instead, had a crush on one of my best friends (we’ll call her Jane). Now, the year passed, and for our final English project we had to do a court case. I wasn’t anyone important, I was just on the jury. She, however, was important. She was one of the pivotal witnesses. I’m not even entirely sure what role she played. That day was so dumb and stupid, but… I never forgot it. I never will forget it. It didn’t enact anything in my heart or whatever cliches there are. She was just… really fun and really funny. Her side (the defense) lost and the perpetrator was put to death. I can’t remember any part of the case except for her testimony and the verdict. I don’t even remember the things she said. I just remember her talking. I don’t remember any of the people, I don’t remember any of the facts, I just remember her face, her laugh, and her disappointed, but still happy, smile. I didn’t talk to her ever. I didn’t think about her again. She was just a pleasant memory and nothing more.

Fast forward to the beginning of the next year. I was just trying to live my life. I had always wanted to be in a relationship, and I always innately knew that it would be something that I would enjoy (and a joke in my friendgroup was always that it was a mystery why I was single (because I would be good at it)). The first day of school, I walk into the school’s weight room and find that I have no friends in that class. Not a single person that I know well enough to lift weights with. I sat in the middle-ish back, and a little later she sat next to me. I recognized her from English, and greeted her. What normally would’ve been a situation that would cause me to worry, became a very pleasant one. We just talked. We talked about all the assholes we noticed were in the class, why we took the class, and we did the “your bodily dreams” assignment together. It was just… fun. Now, a few periods later, I sit in my Chemistry class. I’m sitting in the front-right, second from the board. The guy sitting in front of me says hi, but is almost immediately fed up with me. We had a short small-talk conversation, then proceeded to ask me if I’m gay (unprompted, mind you) and then got upset when I laughed and said no. I didn’t say anything mean, I just chuckled, sighed, and said no. He was… not happy. The next day, I walked into the weight room, and I couldn't find her. Nowhere to be seen. I was disappointed, but quickly I noticed one of my old buddies. I go talk to him, the school transferred him from an earlier period (and I later find out that he switched places with her). He became my lifting partner for the rest of the year and I was very happy to have a friend, but undeniably disappointed. Fast forward to Chem and there she is. Sitting in the spot of that jerk from before. She notices me and the smile that followed… and we talk. I learn that, because of her terrible vision, she got moved from a seat way in the back to the only one right in front of me. I always wonder what would have happened if my Chemistry teacher had moved her to a different seat instead of that one. She was so smart and kind and just unbelievable as a human being. Thus began a friendship. A best friendship, dare I say. She had a girlfriend, and talked about her all the time, so I never read into it.

Around this time, I was looking for love. I, at the time, still had a crush on that same friend from earlier, Jane. I had class with her everyday, so by the laws of crushing, it only got worse. It wasn’t debilitating or anything. I wasn’t always thinking about it, but it was hovering in the back of my mind. My friends knew. It didn’t mean much and didn’t result in any drama for the most part. I went on a few dates and stuff, but it all ended very fast and pretty tragically.

Now, every morning I would stand outside my class just waiting for the door to open. On my birthday, she just appeared. She walked over to talk to me and gave me this amazing card she painted for me. I’ve always been really weird about my birthday because I don’t like making people feel obligated to do nice things to/for me. I usually keep it hidden, but she found out. That became our little routine. We’d meet every morning and just talked. It was, probably, one of my favorite parts of the day. We talked. A lot. We also texted all the time. I’m notorious for being a dry and far-and-few-between texter, but I just really enjoyed talking with her. We’d stay up late and call and talk about… literally everything. I’d play videogames or do projects while we talked, but eventually the conversations would get so good that I’d have to put everything down. We spent a good portion of homecoming together, dancing. We both came with different groups of people, but the two of us just ended up together and talking. She wasn’t not attractive, because she absolutely was, she just never appeared in my head as anything more than a friend.

Sometime in December (I think), I went out with her, Jane, and another shared friend to a cafe to play boardgames. It was a blast, but she got tired near the end and rested her head against my shoulder. She still had a girlfriend mind you, so once again, never read into it. Life just… continued. School continued. If I recall correctly, she ended up breaking up with her girlfriend in the beginning of January. For many and very reasonable reasons. Sometime around the end of February I get a really weird text from her. We’re talking like normal, but she randomly floats that she has something she wants to tell me. But she won’t. I try to get her to but she won’t. Eventually, one of her friends ends up texting me and putting me through a ‘test’ or some shit to see if I was worthy or to convince her to tell me? I’m not really sure but it was goofy. After… 12 hours of teasing, she told me. She liked me. Like more than a friend.

I had never had a girlfriend before and, partially due to my ADD, am extremely unobservant. This caught me entirely off guard. I remember reading it, and my heart going wild. I thought that I still liked Jane, but I took a minute to think about it. Seeing this girl’s smile and hearing her laugh and just talking to her… it was all I ever wanted to do. I needed a minute to consider it, to make sure I was making the right choice. Google said to imagine kissing them to see if you really like them. Suddenly, I was all hot and bothered and hadn’t even answered her. I could just feel it, I liked her too. So, I said so. We flirted for pretty much an entire week. Nothing really happened, our relationship hadn’t really changed, we just added enough flirting to drown a small horse. She would share some of the things I said to her with her friends, which was… odd, now that I think about it, but I sort of enjoyed the attention and was just happy that she was happy.

That Saturday, I went over to her place. We just sat together and watched a few movies. The first movie was one I loved, but she had never seen before, so we paid a lot of attention to it. The 2nd movie was also a movie I loved and another she had never seen before, but this one was a romance movie. I loved the movie and kept trying to get her to watch it, but she kept looking at me funny. I knew what she wanted. I did the text book things, y’know. The first time she tried to lean in I asked if she had any allergies… which… she started cackling. She did, but not to food. Which was good, because I eat pretty much anything, and I was so nervous for this movie date that I had eaten… a variety of things. If she was allergic to any nuts, chocolate, or any fruits/berries, I would’ve killed her. Whatever. She pouted for like 10 minutes before making a second attempt. Once again, I followed the textbook. I leaned in halfway (I say, halfway, but we were very close) and waited for her to meet me. She didn’t. She just kept looking at my eyes, lower, and then would blush and look at the movie. I swear to god. She did this like 6 times. The seventh time, I wasn’t going to let her tease me again. I leaned in, ran my hand up her neck, and gently pushed her closer to meet me. That was my first kiss, and it was… magical. She shut the movie off and we messed around for an hour. She was not nervous anymore, and very evidently, much more experienced than I was. Once I left, I was distracted the rest of the day. I couldn’t focus on anything. Life, once again, continues, but so do we. We go on a date about once a week. I was never a very happy person, but with her… I couldn’t do anything but smile.

We were talking late one night, and the topic of sex came up. As they say, if you’re not ready to talk about it, your relationship isn’t ready for it. So we talked. We talked for a few hours, covering all the bases, setting boundaries, and I’m not going to lie… we were on the exact same freak-uency. Our goals were very realistic and all we wanted was to be close to each other. The next time we met, we tried it. We were very careful and prepared, but our first time wasn’t great. It was awkward and neither of us finished or even got very far. Afterwards, we cuddled, kissed, and talked until I had to leave. We were smiling and everything still, and I have to say, the experience wasn’t spectacular, but it was absolutely special, and I’ll treasure that forever. The next time we hung out, after an afternoon out, we got back to her place and she wanted to try again. She had a look in her eyes and it did something to me. Our second time was amazing. We took extra time to make sure she was ready, mentally and physically, and it was beautiful. She was beautiful. Our sex-life only improved after that. I’ve always hated my body and been uncomfortable with people touching it, but I didn’t care what she did. I knew she loved me and loved my body. She was also insecure, but I constantly worked to show her how much I appreciated her. How much I appreciated her entire person. I loved her personality and her brain and the way she thought. There was a point where she was injured. She hurt her leg, needed surgery, and needed a brace. She had to walk with crutches for a while. She was really insecure about it and what it meant. I didn’t care. I just felt so lucky just to know her and be there for her. I waited for her and encouraged breaks when we went walking. I drove her to appointments sometimes. We spent so much time talking. Our goals for the future were the exact same. She and I wanted to move and live in the same states. We had the same future outlook. We had the same family hopes. We even had the same dreams when it came to just living our lives. Her future profession is, admittedly, very different from mine, but they are both sciences and her goals were so exciting and interesting.

That school year ended, and during the summer, I spent as much time with her as I possibly could. During the beginning of the Summer, I had a trip to another country that would last 2 weeks. The time difference was pretty big and we couldn’t really talk. During that trip, I got to visit a center in the country. It was very cool and offered a lot of opportunities. I was lucky enough to have a decent understanding of the language, and with some more practice, I would have enough to go and work there. That night, one of the rare nights we had time to talk, I told her that I was thinking about the center. She was silent for a while. It would be a temporary thing, only a few years, but she said that we’d probably have to break up if that’s something I was determined to do. That was kind of a shock. I loved her so much, and I was under the impression she loved me too, but the way she said it made it seem like… like we couldn’t even try to make it work. Something changed there.

I got home and we continued spending a lot of time together. We went on so many dates. We watched movies and played games. Had lots of fun and sex. She met my family and I met hers. She spent time with my brother, he loved her, and I spent lots of time with her family. For maybe the first time in my life, I was actually and truly happy. We did fight every now and then, like a normal couple, but it ended with us talking it out and discussing things because harboring feelings always goes wrong. Then, all of a sudden, my childhood dog died. I never got to say goodbye. I saw her an hour before she died. I was a mess. I didn’t want to do anything. She wasn’t just a dog, she was basically another sibling. I’d known her as long as I knew my actual brother. So… my girlfriend wasn’t too happy with me. She had actually lost a sibling before and really didn’t appreciate it when I compared my dog to a person. I never said it was the same, I only said that’s what it felt like, but she felt I didn’t know what it felt like. I was struggling, and she was supportive, but I couldn’t handle the judgement. I was emotionally distant. We barely saw each other. The next year of school started and that got even worse. I was extremely busy and breaking down from a mental standpoint. I was unobservant and just, not as good a boyfriend as I previously had been. We fought all the time, mostly over text. I feel like I made her mad with every other word I said. We still went on dates, and those were always amazing, but we only saw each other… twice(?) after my dog died. The last date we ever had was the day before we broke up. It was amazing. We went on walks and explored and talked. It was lovely and I felt close to her. I remember, while we were eating, looking at her and thinking to myself: I can’t believe she’s actually mine.

The next night, 3 weeks after my dog died, she called me. She had some problems with our relationship. I have to be honest, so did I. I remember the reason she had to break up with me: I was unobservant. I didn’t notice things. I couldn’t tell what she wanted when she was hinting at things, I couldn’t pick up when she was mad over text. I find out later that my unobservantness comes from my ADD. I didn’t know I had ADD at the time. It wouldn’t have changed much, but as a person with struggles herself, I think she might’ve been a little more lenient with me. There was one specific instance she quoted. An hour or two into a day we were hanging out, I had to leave suddenly, and urgently, because of a family thing (it wasn’t an emergency, but my dad was lowkey really pissed at me, and it was break so I didn’t have much of a choice but to do what he said). I told her I had to leave, but she was disappointed. I could see something bothering her, so I was asking her about it. She told me she was fine. I told her that meant she wasn’t fine. She told me she was doing well enough and to just leave and not worry about her. We kissed goodbye and then I went home. A few hours later, after getting absolutely blasted by my father, she texts me. She talks about how she can’t believe how I left and how I couldn’t tell she was mad. I asked, but that wasn’t the point. It was a mixture of how I didn’t believe her when she said she was fine, and then also that I didn’t stay to fix the situation. I was really drained, but tried to talk it out with her. Evidently, we didn’t come to a conclusion. She kept saying how she knew that I wasn’t mistreating her on purpose, and she loved how I normally treated her and told me I was an amazing boyfriend, but I stressed her out and needed to be more attentive and observant. I was honest with her: I didn’t know if I could be more observant. It was an issue she’d always had with me, and it’s something I’ve always tried my best to work around, and I was trying. But it still wasn’t good enough. I had my own gripes with the relationship. I was, and am, a huge foodie. I love food. She had a lot of aversions to food, and just hated a lot of food in general. I was always very accommodating and made sure that there was something she could eat, but I harbored this disappointment that I wouldn’t have someone to enjoy food with. I have always been yelled at, most of my life I’ve been getting yelled at. Our relationship was mostly peaceful, but in the recent times, we’d been fighting a lot and I couldn’t handle it. I was short with her every time we started fighting. I also, admittedly, held a little bit of resentment with her. When our relationship began, it was revealed that Jane had liked me, or, at the very least, would absolutely have dated me to see what happened. I felt a little blindsided and always wondered what would’ve happened had that fact been told to me before we began dating, but it was what it was. I believe there were other reasons I was griping with our relationship, but I can’t even remember them anymore. However, I let her talk the entire time, never got to (or never chose to) say my piece, and when she said we should break up, I just… agreed. I thought that she deserved better than me, because she did. I was shitty to her and she needed more than I could give her.

I was 100% still in love with her. I cried for hours after she hung up, and I despise when I cry because that’s not something men do (I know that’s not true in my heart, I don’t judge when my male friends cry because it’s good to let feelings out, that’s just how I was raised). Every day for the next week, I was constantly on the verge of crying. If anyone said her name I almost began bawling. I couldn’t even properly grieve because a huge school event was starting, which meant I couldn’t even think for the next 3 weeks, let alone worry about a ‘dumb past relationship’. So I didn’t. I focused on the event and the people in it. I buried my feelings deep. Really deep. Sometime during the event, I was talking to Jane, and I, when I’m tired, have this condition called diarrhea of the mouth. I was talking to her about life and she was sorry about my failed relationship and whatever. We were talking, pleasantly, and somehow, who knows why, I told her that I had a crush on her in the past. She got really excited. She said she’d been having… feelings, and that we’d need to talk some other time. We do talk later. She likes me, has for a while, but didn’t say anything because I was with my girlfriend. In that conversation, she admits to not really liking my ex, and how many of my friends and Jane’s friends didn’t like her. Jane wants to try something with me, but, due to the recentness of my break-up, asks me to make sure she won’t be a rebound. I get offended internally. How dare my ex get in the way of another thing. So… the asshole in me takes a real dedicated effort to convince Jane that everything is okay. And, I do. I guess I’m a real charismatic motherfucker. So… Jane and I start talking or whatever. I ask her out and she says yes. We go on a date, we talk, we share a kiss, and we go out to dinner. So, I’m sitting at dinner, and I just feel this… this dread. This sinking feeling. I see Jane in that same way I saw my ex, but instead of thinking how lucky I am, I’m thinking: this is a huge mistake; this is going to end poorly. The date goes well, to her. I’m just stuck in this, half there, half screaming mentality. We go our separate ways and I vomit. From the stress.

School is in full swing. I can’t focus on anything because there’s no time or energy for anything. Life continues yet again. My ex and I text every now and then. We agreed to stay friends, because I couldn’t handle being without her. It’s usually passing and nothing real. Questions about stuff she might’ve left at my place or about questions for friends I get to see way more than she does. Y’know normal things. I’m very short with her though. I try to drive her away so she can find someone who she deserves. She deserves way better than me, she deserves someone who doesn’t piss her off at every given moment. I go on a date or two with Jane, and we kiss a few times, but I want to vomit each instance. It’s not her. It’s never been her. I just can’t handle it. I soon become a villain. Jane and I date for months. I can’t bring myself to break up with her, I just can’t. I want to, but it… just never occurs to be. See, we see each other every day, but other than the few dates we had in the beginning, our relationship never changed. We didn’t flirt, we weren’t physical other than the what can technically be called kissing, we just had a different title. We didn’t even talk more than we did when we were just friends. I, as mentioned before, never really texted or talked to people before my ex. And, that just continued. I didn’t ghost anyone, I answered very timely, but I just don’t think about texting people, I always just prefer to wait to talk to them in person. I, apparently, go 3 months without texting Jane. Not a single word. We talk every morning face to face, so I just…don’t ever think about talking to her otherwise. I end up, however, texting my ex to wish her a happy birthday. We start talking. Not flirting, just talking. Talking like best friends. We ask about each other’s family’s, their pets, school, everything. Talking with her is so natural. It feels right. Around the end of the physical year, so december-ish, I receive a text from my ex. She wants me back. She loves talking with me and regrets ever pushing me away, and just needs to see my face again. I see the text and start sobbing. I want to say yes so badly. I want to take her back. I need her back. But, I’m in a relationship with Jane. I’m a lot of things. I’m a horrible person. I’m a piece of shit, just like my father, but I’m not a cheater. I considered all my options, which wasn’t many. There wasn’t anything I could do that was fair to both girls. I told my ex that I wasn’t interested in her and that she deserved better than me. I cried myself to sleep that night. I never stopped thinking about her. And on top of everything, I’m too much of a pussy to just break up with Jane. I hate my relationship with her. I was a great boyfriend to my ex (or so she told me), as good as I could be at the moment, but I was just awful to Jane. Not good enough. I didn’t try hard enough. Jane told me that she appreciated everything I did when I made an effort, there just wasn’t enough effort. If only love relationships were the only problems in my life. I struggle to keep my good grades in school and put in a lot of effort; I’m involved directly in so many clubs and activities and it requires so much of my energy; I’ve got a plethora of health issues and physical concerns; my familial and friendly relationships are shit too. It took another month for me to plan how to break up with Jane, but before I could, she broke up with me. She was very kind about it. Our relationship didn’t change at all, we’re still very good friends, but she told ALL of her and my friends about my inability to be a good lover.

When I didn’t know what love was, I was finally learning how to be happy. She fell first, but I fell harder. She haunts my dreams, my nightmares. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t do anything. Even before I knew what love was or felt like, it was something I was constantly thinking about. The idea of having someone. It was exactly like every book, every movie, describes it as. Not only am I out a lover, but I’m out my best friend. After my ex and I broke up, I realized the people I called my best friends, didn’t really know me. A lot of them find me annoying. There isn’t a single person on the earth that I’m completely comfortable talking to, except for her. I’ve never felt a connection with anyone like I had with her. Even my therapist, who I got for medical reasons, I’m supposed to tell her everything, but I can’t bring myself to. Maybe this would be easier if I had a best friend. If I had someone, anyone. But I don’t. Leaving for another country is seeming easier and easier as the days go on.

I miss her smile, I miss her laugh, I miss all our stupid inside jokes. I miss how she would recap me on the books she was reading. I miss how we would just talk. I miss not having to hide anything. I miss her eyes. I miss the way she’d look at me. I miss being hugged. I miss being close to someone. I miss being happy.

I’m afraid of being alone. I’m afraid that I’ll finish school and still have no one. I’m an extreme extrovert, I can’t handle being alone. I’m not going to change the world or even do anything impactful with my job, it’ll just be a way to survive and pass the years. My job won’t even let me have pets. I don’t know how I’ll last. I know I’m still young, but that’s the only thing people keep telling me. “You’re young, it’ll get better”. I get told this by people who have already met the love of their life. Who met them when they were younger than I am. My mom thinks I'm being dramatic, but she doesn’t understand. Her first relationship longer than 3 months was with my asshole father who got her pregnant at 18. All I want is a normal life. Y’know what, I don’t even care about normal. I just want to be happy, and I know I won’t be truly happy alone. Dating is a demon now, and I know it. I can’t love someone again unless I feel a connection like that. Will that ever happen again? Am I stupid for letting it go?

I’m sorry this is so long. If you made it this far, I hope you at least were a little entertained or something. It’s been over a year and a half since the last time I saw my ex. I didn’t even make eye contact with her, I just heard her voice, and I wanted to yell out for her, but I didn’t. She had a boyfriend again by then, which hurt more than I thought it would, considering I did the same to her, but y’know. I hope she’s happy and he treats her well.

I just need more perspectives. Someone to say something. I don’t care if it’s admitting I’m a bad person, I just need someone to see this and say something.

Thank you for your time and attention, have a good rest of your day