I'm Just Saying...

Here's what I want to be able to say: I'm over you. I'll always have a special place for you in my heart, but I'm ready to move on to something more, something real. I genuinely hope that we can be friends because you were such a big part of my life. And I miss our friendship. I hope that she is everything that I couldn't be for you. Really, I do. Because you deserve the best.

Here's what I am saying: I'm over you. You really suck for telling me you miss my family and the sex more than you miss me. I hope you have a fantastic life.

Here's what my heart's telling me to say: I'm not over you. I never will be over you. I have always believed that you were the one for me and that hasn't ever stopped being true. Sure, other guys are cool. Some are even okay in bed. But none of them are YOU. We fit, you and me. You tell me when I'm being stupid and I tell you when you're being a baby. But you also tell me how beautiful I look in my favorite outfit when you don't even know it's my favorite. and I also tell you how amazingly smart you are and how I envy you.

I want you to be happy. But I want that to be with me. Not her. She might be a cool chick, but right now she's got the only thing in the world that I need to thrive. I need you to complete me. I can go on and live my life and I'll be okay. But I won't ever be full, or at peace, or genuinely happy without you by my side. I want to look at my babies and see your hazel eyes. Your blonde hair. And my nose... because let's face it. Your nose is not something you want to pass on to our little girl. And you love my nose.

You know everything about me and more. And I could pinpoint anything you are going to say, do, or even think about pretty much right on the dot. It's been a year, and I still find myself seeing things in the world that only you would get. Saying things like, "T would love that!" And people still have faith in us. STILL. After all the shit that we've put each other through. Not only do I still have hope, but so do other people that love and care about both of us.

I want to bombard you with all of this because, as they say, if you want something, you have to go out and get it. But I'm afraid it's still too soon to have it. I'm afraid that if I try, I'll crash and burn and all this time that I've spent working toward a little semblance of a friendship will go up in smoke. I'm afraid of what might happen. I'm afraid that I'll hurt you, too. And, to be honest, I'm a little afraid that you'll tell me you feel the same way.

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I hate when I do things that I know I shouldn't.

It is hope that keeps drawing me back. Hoping that someone will learn, want to change, see the error in their ways. But they don't. They never do, they never will. And in the end I am the one that gets hurt and they walk away from the wreckage.

It is the assumption that there are certain people in life that are assumed as trustworthy and it is difficult to process when they aren't. Confrontation means nothing to these people. They weave their words so that they have a right to be angry with me. I am tired of it and tell myself it will be the last time that I fall for it. And yet, here I am again.

It's not you... or is it?

"It's not you, it's me." We're all familiar with this cliche breakup line. And as I contemplate a crumbling friendship, I'm wondering if it is me.

I was the girl in school who had a new "best friend" each year. Fond memories of childhood are often recalled beginning, "When I was best friends with April..." "... with Amber..." "... with Angela..." "... with Dana..." "... with Kerri ..." etc., etc.

I guess that's fairly common for children... becoming close to girls who happen to be in your class that year, or who is in the same dance class or Brownie troop.

But what is my excuse now that I'm all grown up? I wouldn't even say I even *have* a best friend. And I find myself looking at the people who last year I called my closest friends, wondering how I ever thought we had anything in common.

I hate this about myself. I wish I had the desire to nurture and renew these friendships. But I don't. I want to find people who don't make me cringe when I see an e-mail in my inbox from them... knowing it will contain an invitation to some place I have no interest in going to hang out with people I have no interest in maintaining friendships with. But even if I find a new friend who "gets me"... who is to say I won't be absolutely sick of her by this time next year?

One friend in particular has been there for me in the most difficult of times. I have a lot of guilt about the prospect of throwing her out like yesterday's garbage, but I truly have no interest in rekindling our friendship.

Sometimes I think I get too comfortable in my romantic relationships and end up losing the desire to carry on friendships. I'd rather spend time cuddling my significant other, under covers, watching netflix movies, than go to this bar to watch that band with these people. So why force myself? If I have to make myself be someone's friend, why bother?

Am I a horrible person? Or just realistic? I can't decide.