I can’t sleep because I’m less than ten miles from where he’s sleeping and it’s making me crazy.
Okay, maybe it’s the coffee.
Still, all I can think about as I lie here awake in the darkness of an alien bedroom is that he’s so close and yet so impossibly distant.
What do I do?
I tell myself over and over again to stop all contact, to cut it off, to forget he exists. This heart trauma has gone on almost a year and that’s far too long. It should’ve ended the day he chose her over me. It should’ve ended when he kissed me and then panicked and told me he just wanted to be friends. It should’ve probably never begun.
And yet, no matter what I do, no matter how determinedly I try to make it someone else, it’s always him. I hate it down to the root of my being. I hate myself for my weakness and him for his knowing duplicity. I hate that I always circle back around somehow. I hate that when it comes to him, I lose all sense of rationale and hold onto ridiculous and unfounded hopes.
Love makes me incredibly stupid.
I need to accept the truth. It’s slapping me in the face and still I refuse it.
I’ve never been good at letting go of what I want.
Then again, I don’t want to love him.
I want so very badly to let him go, to find love with someone capable of loving me back.
I want my person and I want him now, because my heart is tired of pining over someone so distant.
I beg the universe to guide me, to help me see clearly, to show me who I need and give me what I seek. To bring him to me and open my eyes so I actually recognize him.
I beg all the time. It’s not working.
These little tastes of him make it all worse. I can’t get to know him and I can’t forget him. It’s like slowly losing my sanity.
Please. Just let me sleep. This has no end game.
By Amy Horton for ThoughtCatalog