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Idin Sol Nigeria A freelancer for writing and financial services @ An entrepereneur
In Relationships • 4 min read •
The Picture I Painted

It started in May.


I didn't have any plans to connect with anyone this year.

My calendar reminded me last year why I shouldn't trust any man.


I was so focused on it.

I thought I was going to win.


Until you came along.


You were very shy.

You asked your friend to call me.


I chuckled on the inside ,

and still decided to hear you out.


You couldn't even look me in the eyes.


Your eyes were shifting,

giving off that nervous laugh

while scratching the back of your neck.


You said I should stop staring at you with my eyes.


They look like a cat’s, you said.


I gave you a smile and agreed with you.

Put on my glasses, even.


And you still had a hard time talking.


I liked your charm.


I'm usually the shy one,

But you shocked me with your mannerisms.


And that was the beginning.


I got home that day 

and caught myself smiling in the mirror.


I wanted to smack myself for that.


But then I thought…


What's the point? 

It's bound to happen sooner or later.


Next time I saw you, 

I squeezed my number into your hands.


I knew you were shy to ask.

Even told me when you summoned the courage to text me


We started talking.


And somehow,

I felt this was it.


Maybe I could finally learn 

to love again.


I usually do not like calls.

Or texts.

Or touching my phone in general.


But I made an exception

For you.


Obviously, things would never go smoothly.


You're an overthinker,

And i have the emotional quotient of a mango


But somehow,

we figured things out


We even spoke for 4 hours on the phone

An astonishing record 

compared to my regular 57 seconds


And somehow,

it became the best meaningful and impactful conversation 

I’ve ever had.


Maybe because I’ve finally realised

I'm attracted to intelligent people.


I just didn't realise

when that attraction became liking.


Or when that liking

started becoming something more.


Until today.


Today, you told me something

that made me cold.


I posted a friend today

“Happy birthday queen”


Harmless to me.


Nothing I thought twice about.


But it would later shake me.


We started talking this morning 

like we usually do.


Then you told me she was your ex.

…


Oh

Ohh

Oooohhhh


I was shocked.


A small world we live in, honestly.


But suddenly, everything clicked.


You both went to the same school.


Such a major coincidence.


But hearing it from you…


Sigh…


I genuinely do not learn.


I told you everything was fine.


Thanked you for being honest with me.


And I meant it.


But I'm very sad inside.


Because how do I explain this?


How do i tell you

that somewhere between your nervous laughter,

your shifting eyes,

the 4 hour conversations,

and the little things i never thought would matter…


I stopped merely liking you.


I started loving you.


And now i dont know 

what scares me more–


that you once loved her,

or that I had finally found someone 

I wanted to love again.


I think I know now.


It isn't her.


It isn't even you.


It's the realisation

 that somewhere along the way,

 I started trying to convince myself

 that something could work

 just because I wanted it to.


I've painted a future with you

 so many times

 that I forgot to ask

 if you were even standing

 in the same picture.


Every argument brings me back

 to the same place.


You reach out.

 I don't respond quickly enough.


And suddenly,

 I'm the careless one.


The villain.


The one who doesn't care enough.


But when the roles reverse,

 there is always a reason.


Your phone wasn't with you.

 You were on DND.

 You were busy.


And somehow,

 I'm expected to understand.


But when it's me,

my reasons become excuses.


My silence becomes evidence.


My way of communicating

 becomes a character flaw.


Expecting me to see you as the prize

when you never let me be a contestant.


And maybe that's when

 the liking started becoming loving,

and the loving started becoming resentment.


Not because I stopped caring.


But because I got tired

 of feeling like I had to prove

 that I cared.


I don't think you're a bad person.


I don't think I'm a bad person either.


I just think we're two people

 who keep trying to make sense

 out of something that doesn't make sense

 when we're actually living it.


Maybe we were never supposed

 to become the future

 I kept imagining.


Maybe I was in love

 with the possibility of us.


And maybe that's why

 letting go of the picture

 hurts more than letting go of you.


Because I finally see it now.


We don't fit.


Not because there isn't affection.


Not because there wasn't something real.


But because whatever this is,


 it keeps asking one of us

 to become someone

 the other one can understand.


And I am tired.


Tired of defending myself.


Tired of explaining myself.


Tired of wondering


 whether I'm asking for too much

 when all I want

 is for the rules to apply

 to both of us.


I came into May

 with no intention of finding anyone.


And somehow,

I found you.


I found a liking.


Then a love.


Then a future

 I built almost entirely in my head.


And now,

I'm standing in front of that future

 for the first time,


finally seeing

 that I was the only one

 holding the blueprint.


Maybe this isn't

 a liking turned loving.


Maybe it's a liking turned loving,

now resentment.


Not because I hate you.


But because I've started to resent

the version of myself


 that kept trying to make us work

 when my eyes had already told me

 we never would.


And maybe that's the part

 I needed to finally understand:


some things don't end

 because they weren't real.


Sometimes they end

 because they were real,


and still weren't right.



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