Dear That Guy Who Broke Up With Me (Even Though We Were Never Official) But Still Totally Wants To Be Friends,
Listen, I totally want to be friends. You're super cool, and you're easy to hang out with, and we still get along really well. You say you can't hook up with someone when you know you're going to leave and that's why we ended it, when I remember you telling me it was because you didn't have time to date ANYONE, you weren't in that place right now, you needed to focus on your studies. But maybe your words came out one way and you meant something else, or maybe I heard what I wanted to hear and twisted it all in my paranoid little brain. It doesn't matter - as far as I'm concerned, both ways of looking at are true - that you didn't have time for me, for anyone, and that you weren't able to deal, emotionally, with hooking up with someone with whom you couldn't have long term plans.
And honestly, I was fine with you not having time for me. Well, okay, not fine with it, but I got it. That's a valid reason to break up. Any reason to break up is a valid reason to break up - if it's not working, it's not working, and I'd rather you broke it off then continued to hook up with me when you weren't really into it. Especially when we were only three months in.
Look. This wasn't even that serious. We never became official. Neither of us wanted to have that conversation. I almost brought it up a couple times, but I knew we were just not long term material. I never thought about our wedding day. I never thought about our children. I just really, really fucking liked you, liked spending time with you, liked hooking up with you, and I wanted to enjoy that until you left.
I get obsessive, and I know that. I wanted to hang out all the time. I get excited. Everything made me think of you - posters of Tom Cruise, Drumsticks at the grocery store, people driving Jeeps. I was thinking about you all the time. Outside of work, I neglected almost everything else. I wanted you to meet my friends. I wanted you to meet my family. I wanted you to be a part of my life. Sure, it would suck when you left, but why did that mean we couldn't enjoy what we had in the mean time?
But we couldn't hang out all the time. I had stopped writing. I stopped keeping my apartment neat (still working on getting back into that). I didn't take care of basic errands. I stopped going out with friends (but also, I didn't have much money, so that wasn't all because of my feelings for you).
You, though. You were more responsible, and that's great. You took the time to take care of your studies, to do things outside of work and us. And I was more excited about... whatever the fuck it was we were doing.
There were times I wanted you to be there for me but didn't get around to asking. One night in January - when I was doing very poorly at work - I was alone in my apartment, with the gas shut off because my old roommate and I never got around to turning it on (I blame him because the bills were his job, but I also know that's not totally fair), and my oven was making a buzzing sound that wouldn't go away no matter what I did, and I felt so helpless, like I was so terrible at this adult thing, and I thought maybe if you sat next to me it would make everything better, but I knew you were busy with your roommate that night and so I never asked. And that was fine - I got the gas turned back on, I got the buzzing to stop, I got back on track at work, and everything fell into place.
It didn't matter you weren't there for me, because I never asked, and I didn't need it, and you were busy with previous plans anyway.
We would stay in and watch TV and movies and youtube videos together. Sometimes we'd venture out to eat at a cheap restaurant for pancakes or burgers. And that was all fine - I didn't want to do much more. You were right to break us up though - that can't be all we do, outside of work.
But the one time I did need you to be there for me, you failed. You were very clear that you couldn't be bothered - that you needed to study for a test three months away, that this was a big burden for you, that my problems were not that a big of a deal, that you could be - should be - studying right now instead of sitting here with me. After you had decided you were done, you made your way to the door, and I sat on the couch with my head in my hands, trying to make myself into a ball and maybe disappear.
And you said, "I'm glad you're feeling better," even though a six-year-old with Asperger's could see I was, if anything, feeling worse.
And the next day I called you out, said that wasn't okay, said you needed to do better, that any friend of mine would have done so much more, but that this time I wanted it to be you who was there for me, and you didn't do it.
You said you couldn't do this anymore.
Well, if being there for me was what it took to break us up, then I say you're right - we couldn't do this anymore. And I do still want to be friends, just like you proclaim to want as well.
We've hung out a few times since then, and two of the three times I felt so upset afterwards. (The third time I was tired and went straight to bed, so I didn't feel much of anything outside of fatigue.) And I ask myself why I spend so much energy chasing after someone's friendship when he, quite frankly, doesn't seem to care.
I know you care. I know you do. I know you want to be friends. I know you enjoy hanging out with me, because it's easy, because conversation has never been a problem, because if we don't feel like talking, then we don't talk, and that's awesome. But holy shit do you suck at friendship. At any form of relationship.
I know the issues I have with you are because you just don't think things through. And I know you don't mean anything by your carelessness - I do. But I'm so fucking tired of reminding myself "he just doesn't think about things like that, he's just bad at that sort of thing, he doesn't mean it that way, you're reading too much into it."
If I feel bad after we hang out, I feel bad after we hang out. I'm done making excuses, and I'm done trying to be friends. I know eventually you'll text me to see a movie - you have so few friends here, you'll come around to asking to see a movie with me at some point or another - but I'm done worrying about whether or not we hang out.
You hurt me. And you've made no effort to make me feel like you're, well, making any sort of effort. I feel weak, I feel stupid, I feel silly, I feel like a girl who's just not getting the fucking hint. And I know you don't want me to feel that way - I know you don't mean for any of this. You want me to be happy, you want me to succeed, you want us to be friends - you want all of that.
But holy shit do you suck at friendship.
You'll torrent shows for me if I ask, and that's great. You agreed to drive me to the airport when I asked (and then eventually I changed my mind, realized what a terrible fucking idea that was), and I appreciate that. You're good at doing things that are asked of you, provided I give you a few days heads up.
But holy shit. You suck at friendship.
You could be so much better at people. You have so much potential to be a good person - you're reflective, and introspective, and constantly bettering yourself in the ways you think matter most.
It's the effort you put in, you know. And I know you're an introvert, and all that bullshit. But I get anxious in social situations too. I hate meeting people for the first time. I used to suck at all forms of social interaction. I just decided that it was something I wanted to be good at - that being a good friend was important to me - and I fixed that part of myself because I worked on it.
You don't make me a priority, as a friend or as a whatever. I hate that I'm still attracted to you. I hate that I want you in my life, that I want us to be friends as badly as I want it. Because you? You don't care. And me? I have people in my life who do care, and I really should be focusing on them.
I want to be friends. I do. But I just don't think we can be.
And I really fucking hate that.
With love,
An Ex-Doormat/Hook-up Buddy/Friend
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