To D

          You said we’re okay. That we really were okay. That we were happy together. That we’ll see where we’ll go from where we were.

          You see, that was my thoughts as well. That we’re okay. Were good together. That we could have been good for each other. But little did I know that okay meant other things to you. That we had different meanings for “okay”.

          I asked you, long ago when we were just starting in this-whatever this is-was I mean. You said you didn’t know who you were to me. That’s why you still can’t define our relationship. But that’s the point. I also don’t know what I mean to you. From the start up until now. I didn’t, couldn’t and I guess I will never know who I was to you.

          We had something. And we left it at that. Just “something”. More than friends  but less than lovers, Mutual Understanding, Friends with benefits and whatever the hell you want to call it. What we had was something undefinable. Something even we couldn’t understand.

          I kept my demons at bay by telling myself that someday, someday we’ll be able to define whatever the hell this is between us. That you’ll man up and have the courage to define this with me. Because admit it, I’ve always asked you, but I get the same answer everytime. “We’re okay”.

          I have spent months agonizing over this. Thinking what the hell I should do to define this.

          Remember when you first told me about your past? You were so ashamed to say it at first but I was so fucking proud of you to have told me. Because I understand and I fucking accept the fact that you had that kind of past and it doesn’t  bother me. Remember what I said? That I accept you and your past because what’s important is who you are right now. All that matters to me is the man I have right now.

          You thanked me, remember? Babe, I remember the exact words you said that night. I remember all the things you told me. The stories, the jokes, everyting. Even the night you said you were in love with me.

          I believed you. I held onto that. You were in love with me. I held onto it hoping that it could be the foundation of whatever we had going on.

          But little did I know that that was it. It was enough for me that you told me you loved me. I held onto it and never realized that you never said it again. Like it just slipped and you were never meant to say it.

          Remember that night you told me all about your past? I felt so honored. Because I know how much courage you must’ve taken to tell me all about it. It hit me you know. Right in the chest. As you were telling your  story, I looked at you and all I could see was the man that was strong enough to turn away from all of that. A man strong enough to handle the problem and complied with his responsibilities. I adored you. I was so fucking proud of the man you turned out to be.

          Remember those nights when we just lay side by side and you tell me about your passions? I just loved the way your eyes lit up every time you speak about those things. I loved that you know just how you can get it. I loved how proud you looked when I complement your shoes. But honestly though, I really liked them. I loved how you would send me the pictures of your newly acquired shoes. It felt as if you wanted me to be a part of it. That you’re showing me a part of your world.

          I’ve always found it so cute when you explain as to why you weren’t able to come on the day that we planned. How you tell me what happened the night before when you went our with your friends. What you did and where you went. I loved how you kept me informed. It made me feel as if you didn’t want me to doubt or worry.

          Months has passed and we were still In that grey area. We were still undefinable.

          I guess that’s all that it is. That’s where we should leave it.

          We stopped talking. No more late night conversations, no more late night rendezvous, no more nothing. And each day that pass tears me apart. I couldn’t ask you why, I have no right to demand an explanation. I was just the girl you go to when you have nothing else to do. And I let you.

          We could have been great. Together we could have built an empire.

          I understand. That’s the thing, I fucking understand. I understand that you just got out of your dreaded past and I know that the wounds are still fresh. I understand that you are just now enjoying your freedom and I understand if you can’t commit for now.

          I understand but I can’t deny the fact that the pain is eating me alive. I’m deteriorating by the day. I guess this is also my fault. I expected too much from something that was actually nothing.

          At one point you made me feel special. You made me feel high above the clouds. But I guess it was just too overwhelming for me to like someone again, maybe that’s why I expected a little too much.

          You know, we complemented each other. We both learned from our pasts and we could have handled this relationship right. But we didn’t.

          Now we no longer talk. I think maybe you’ve found someone who could fulfill your needs better than I did. It’s beyond hurtful. Seeing you happy with someone else and I can’t do anything but pretend that I’m alright. Because there was never an us right? It stings. Because I was not enough. I feel worthless and stupid. I let myself be drained by you, gave you all you needed, became what you wanted but still wasn’t enough.

          I admit. I liked you more than what I have originally planned.

Now we ignore each other, pretend the other person doesn’t exist. But I hope it wasn’t supposed to end like this. At least tell me. Make me understand. Even if its over, make me understand.