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 laughwhile 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 exceptionFor 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 phoneAn 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 realisedI'm attracted to intelligent people. I just didn't realisewhen that attraction became liking. Or when that likingstarted becoming something more. Until today. Today, you told me somethingthat 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.… OhOhhOooohhhh 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 youthat 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 prizewhen 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 resentthe 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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