A Internet Confession
Everything's been going downhill since the final full week of May. Instead of beating around the bush, I'm just going to say it:
I'm back where I was 6 months ago, concerning that certain somebody.
Recent events have stirred feelings of sadness and anger that I though I had moved past a long time ago. Now I know that whenever some says "I'm over (insert name here)," that person's lying through his or her teeth. There's no getting over someone you loved--not entirely anyway.
Suffce it to say, with something that took place three weeks ago, he's been vigorously thrust back into my life. And I've worked so hard to remove him from it. I've been talking to him less and less, keeping contact to a minimum...then that phone call one Sunday night. He sent me a text that same afternoon, but I couldn't respond as I was working. I would have replied, since texting is brief and impersonal. When I heard that phone ring, I instinctively wanted to ignore it--I knew his ringtone--and yet I answered it.
If you read my post from 5/24, you'll know what I'm talking about. (http://the-magical-boy.livejournal.com/58676.html#cutid1) I've been wondering why he chose to call me, of all people, and not his boyfriend. I could tell he'd been crying. Why didn't he call someone he'd known for years? I could hear the shaking in hs voice. I've been asking myself repeatedly "Why did he let his defenses to the person who's heart he'd broken?" I've been struggling with that answer myself. There aren't any words...only emotions. Guilt. Anger. Regret. Sadness. Grief. Every time I ponder that question, I have the same emotional responses.
At his request, I had taken him to YPI in hopes of reducing the possibility of dire situation at home. I took the afternoon off, dropped everything I was doing, and took him there. Instead of opening his mouth and asking the professional staff questions, he just sat there, silent. He's flat out told me he knows nothing about the LGBT community, and after asking him a few questions myself, I knew he wouldn't be able to provide his parents any positive and informed answers. Why waste such a valuable opportunity to make life at home that much easier? Why ask me to take him to YPI if he's not going to avail himself of the resources? I even told him that if he needed to have a private talk, but didn't want to go alone, that I'd sit next to him. All he did that afternoon was follow me like a lost kitten. He was never more than 5 feet away from me. The same thing happened on Wednesday, except that he sat there and played video games for an hour.
The reason why I've moved away from video games and anime revolves around him. I can't look at a DVD or walk by the manga in Borders without being reminded of him. I can't even sit down at a console to enjoy my favorite games--they were his favorites too. For the brief time we weren't really talking, I was fine. I had openly told everyone I had lost interest in them, that way I could verbally convince myself and others that they were no longer part of my life.
I could manage...but now I can't. He buys me an artbook for my favorite series "Ah! My Goddess" from Anime Boston and gives it to me on Wednesday night. I can't bring myself to open it, let alone look at the cover. Instead, it's buried under a bunch of unknown stuff in my closet.
Those of you who have been in relationships (or almost relationships) know what this feels like. It's the little things that remind you of him/her. Phrases, songs, objects around you, interests you once shared--they all bring back painful memories. He wants to have a Doctor Who marathon with me sometime this summer, but that's not possible even though I love the series. I don't think he remembers telling me "I felt like I could've kissed you, but I didn't want to ruin a friendship" about a month later, referring to the last time we watched Doctor Who. He's even carelessly thrown about words like "Cinderella," his special nickname for me before he told me he was dating someone else.
I can't bring myself any to tell him any of this. I don't intend to either. I know that I'll never be able to have piece of mind when it comes to him. I've chosen to keep up this charade that way at least he can have his piece of mind. I'd rather see myself in distress than the both of us.
I know he's oblivious and that he should think before he says something, but I hope he never realizes what I've been doing and what I'm going through.
Heaven forbid...I think I'm still in love with him. And I hate myself for it.
-----------------------------
Campbell's Law
"The less you do, the less that can go wrong."
I'm back where I was 6 months ago, concerning that certain somebody.
Recent events have stirred feelings of sadness and anger that I though I had moved past a long time ago. Now I know that whenever some says "I'm over (insert name here)," that person's lying through his or her teeth. There's no getting over someone you loved--not entirely anyway.
Suffce it to say, with something that took place three weeks ago, he's been vigorously thrust back into my life. And I've worked so hard to remove him from it. I've been talking to him less and less, keeping contact to a minimum...then that phone call one Sunday night. He sent me a text that same afternoon, but I couldn't respond as I was working. I would have replied, since texting is brief and impersonal. When I heard that phone ring, I instinctively wanted to ignore it--I knew his ringtone--and yet I answered it.
If you read my post from 5/24, you'll know what I'm talking about. (http://the-magical-boy.livejournal.com/58676.html#cutid1) I've been wondering why he chose to call me, of all people, and not his boyfriend. I could tell he'd been crying. Why didn't he call someone he'd known for years? I could hear the shaking in hs voice. I've been asking myself repeatedly "Why did he let his defenses to the person who's heart he'd broken?" I've been struggling with that answer myself. There aren't any words...only emotions. Guilt. Anger. Regret. Sadness. Grief. Every time I ponder that question, I have the same emotional responses.
At his request, I had taken him to YPI in hopes of reducing the possibility of dire situation at home. I took the afternoon off, dropped everything I was doing, and took him there. Instead of opening his mouth and asking the professional staff questions, he just sat there, silent. He's flat out told me he knows nothing about the LGBT community, and after asking him a few questions myself, I knew he wouldn't be able to provide his parents any positive and informed answers. Why waste such a valuable opportunity to make life at home that much easier? Why ask me to take him to YPI if he's not going to avail himself of the resources? I even told him that if he needed to have a private talk, but didn't want to go alone, that I'd sit next to him. All he did that afternoon was follow me like a lost kitten. He was never more than 5 feet away from me. The same thing happened on Wednesday, except that he sat there and played video games for an hour.
The reason why I've moved away from video games and anime revolves around him. I can't look at a DVD or walk by the manga in Borders without being reminded of him. I can't even sit down at a console to enjoy my favorite games--they were his favorites too. For the brief time we weren't really talking, I was fine. I had openly told everyone I had lost interest in them, that way I could verbally convince myself and others that they were no longer part of my life.
I could manage...but now I can't. He buys me an artbook for my favorite series "Ah! My Goddess" from Anime Boston and gives it to me on Wednesday night. I can't bring myself to open it, let alone look at the cover. Instead, it's buried under a bunch of unknown stuff in my closet.
Those of you who have been in relationships (or almost relationships) know what this feels like. It's the little things that remind you of him/her. Phrases, songs, objects around you, interests you once shared--they all bring back painful memories. He wants to have a Doctor Who marathon with me sometime this summer, but that's not possible even though I love the series. I don't think he remembers telling me "I felt like I could've kissed you, but I didn't want to ruin a friendship" about a month later, referring to the last time we watched Doctor Who. He's even carelessly thrown about words like "Cinderella," his special nickname for me before he told me he was dating someone else.
I can't bring myself any to tell him any of this. I don't intend to either. I know that I'll never be able to have piece of mind when it comes to him. I've chosen to keep up this charade that way at least he can have his piece of mind. I'd rather see myself in distress than the both of us.
I know he's oblivious and that he should think before he says something, but I hope he never realizes what I've been doing and what I'm going through.
Heaven forbid...I think I'm still in love with him. And I hate myself for it.
-----------------------------
Campbell's Law
"The less you do, the less that can go wrong."