I had a great night out with Brian last night. We went for one of our usual walks and talking the entire time. Came back to watch movies here before he headed home for the night.
I climbed into bed and watched The Wire for a few hours, then checked my email before falling asleep. And there it was, an email from PK.
I tried to sleep on it for the night without responding, holding off for as long as I could. I finally fell to sleep a few hours later, but woke up early again. It was still sitting there. And then I realized how damn cheesy it sounded. How fake, how contrived. Even when it came to real emotions he couldn’t express them well.
I think about you a lot.
It’s really sad. I realize now that I loved that you loved me, I loved when I was with you, and I loved having sex with you – none of that was any doubt.
I worked really hard to force myself to uncover the true love I thought we were destined for, only because I knew you loved me and we were so perfect that if I could love you were truly would be perfect, whole. But it wasn’t organic – it was forced. And I’m sorry we couldn’t be together right now.
If we were I’d tell you to read Twenty Something by Ian Hollingshead because it was amazing
Hope you’re good, and if you do end up here I’d like to start over sometime
let’s go to bed
let’s stop debating
look at the time
we’re always waiting
but we’re in love
and that should be just fine.
So now what?
EDIT: I did write back to him:
I think about you a lot too. More than you can imagine. But we will never try this again. I will never go through your bullshit again. I don’t care if you loved me or didn’t love me- what you said to me and what you did to me hurt and I will never get past that. I was in New York last month to take my police exam and it was blocks away from where you used to live. And I was in Hoboken all day, knowing that you were in work down the street while I was at the pier. I’m going to graduate school. I got into a program in Philadelphia. I’ll finish that and move to New York. I scored in the top third percentile for the NYPD. And when I move up there, I hope I don’t see you.
I love you, I probably won’t get over you the way that I want to, but I’ll never be with you.
We did exchange a few more emails back and forth when he sort of rescinded what he’d said:
It wasn’t really a “let’s get back together if you could what what we were ‘together'” email. I was kinda just drawing a positive feature out of the new iPhone to be used in a context that we tried to supplement our long distance relationship with.
Other than that, sure, I guess I sometimes went along for the ride rather than confronted all of our issues because the ride was a lot of fun, but ultimately we were on two different tracks.
At no point am I claiming to have been wronged as much as I wronged you. You win. Always.
Does that first sentence even make an ounce of sense? And how does that possibly not come across as a “let’s try to work this out” email?