Not a proper goodbye

 

 

 

 

 

 10/29/23 11:25 PM

----

I wish I hadn't sent that email.

I sounded really stupid in it.

You needed space, not an idiotic treatise on -- I don't know what.

My tone was horrible, just the worst. 

Ego, ego, ego.

I'd like to blame medication or mental illness, but I can't. 

All those words, so inappropriate in their timing and delivery.

Just more things for me to feel ashamed about.

I'm beating myself up again, fearing I've lost you as a friend.

The silence is killing me.

That's not on you.

I'm just weak and needy.

If I was stronger, more patient, I don't know...maybe you'd think better of me.

I'm trying to figure out where I made my first misstep.

It's difficult, because I've allowed myself to develop these feelings for you for a long time. 

I just never thought that I'd be tested so severely, that I would crack under pressure.

I can't blame you for being who you are.

I am, even now, doing something stupid. 

I'm writing to you, so that I can ease my sorry soul. 

But that doesn't help you. 

You still need space, not ramblings from me.

I don't really have anyone else to talk to about these kinds of things, but that's also on me.

I shouldn't put that on you. 

The nature of our friendship was that I'd be there for you, not dump my stuff on you. 

I know this. 

You can't absorb this kind of thing. 

You shouldn't have to. 

I wanted so badly to be the one guy you could trust to always be purely and innocently a nice guy. 

Not just another dog, sniffing around. 

Now, because I said two words, it revealed that my heart was full of eros, not pure agape or philos. 

My integrity, or the illusion of integrity, is revealed to be rife with impurities.

I have so many regrets.

This one hurts a lot, though.

If I never hear from you again...

I just can't bear that.

How did we go from Saturday...to this?

How can I fix it?

I guess I can't.

It's not up to me.

I can only break things, anyway.

I obsess.

This makes things worse.

This is kind of what I do, and it is why most people find me to be not worth the trouble.

It is manipulative, even just sitting here writing sentences.

I'm hoping to soften your heart towards me, make you feel sorry for me, I guess.

Attention seeking.

I don't suppose I will have any of your respect after all this.

I don't have much for myself.

I am supposed to be mature, not emotional or hormonally driven.

I used to say I was AI, so you wouldn't think of me as someone you could even have feelings for.

My protective out.

I was a poor fake, letting my hand slip like I did, showing my own feelings.

Keep that shit bottled up, man, push it back down.

Now it's too late.

I've been found out.

I can't hide behind a mask of philanthropic decency.

I'm just another of so many guys, guys with eyes, guys with ideas in their heads.

My character was poorly written, or perhaps written too well.

I'm full of flaws, inconsistencies and incongruities.

You don't need that.

You need a real hero.

I can't be trusted.

I don't believe in myself anymore.

Or anything.

I really wish I hadn't sent that last email.

I really wish...just a lot of things.

No matter. 

In how many universes do I keep making the same mistake?

Only in the ones where I am me.

If you read this, it is because you looked here.

I won't email or text you again unless you reach out first.