In this letter I will be pouring out everything that I've wanted to say to you or that I felt was left unsaid.
Cameron,
Can you believe what has become of us? I still can't but at the same time I'm glad it did. You don't care about me at all, I'm out of your thoughts and out of your life completely. To you I'm nothing but a bad memory I'm sure. I wanted to tell you I loved you. I wanted to tell you that I knew you were hangingout with other people because hanging out with me was boring. I know I wasn't interesting. I was so focused on you that I lost myself. I was completely submissive to you and the idea that I made of you that I failed to care about Me. I was and am someone who is interesting and someone who does have stories to share and tell. I loved movies, not superhero movies like Marvel or DC but action movies were some that I could watch. I love indie/underrated movies, or just some of the really deep thought movies. I couldn't watch any after we broke up because I would imagine you sitting there with me either enjoying the movie, distracting me with commentary, or being on your phone busy with other things or people making plans to avoid me.
I loved you. I loved every idea that I made of you. You were nerdy, smart, goofy, weird, and a little (mentally) off like my brother. You were tall, slim, and walked with your hips that had me swoon. You had the big nose that I oh-so adore, juicy thick lips to match, and green/hazel eyes that melted me in every way. When you got mad at me, and I looked into your eyes, I always felt so submissively vulnerable to you. You would always look right at me, like you were judging and calculating my next move with just a look that I felt I could never win without stripping down and exposing myself like the way your eyes made me feel when youd get mad at me. When you yelled at me, I was scared. Not that you would physically hurt me, I knew you were never capable, but scared like a child being scolded by their parent. It was a scared that made me feel small and weak and I hated it. Even with you yelling at me, I would focus on your lips and they always brought me some sort of comfort. The soft tenderness of your lips would grow stern, a stiff upper lip if you will. Me being so defiant I always wanted to kiss you mid arguement and taste the power and feeling that was behind them. I loved you. I loved you when you were mad at me, I loved you when you didn't want me.
You would constantly tell me that you were busy hanging out with friends and being tired from work, or that you just wanted to sleep. Even when you wanted to sleep I would always hope you'd invite me jsut to cuddle. No sex (like it usually would turn to) just holding eachother, comfort eachother, and be warm with eachother. I loved when you came over to my house to watch a movie, we cuddled and you were so into the movie, it was distracting. I couldnt focus on the movie because I was so focused on you and your love for the movie. I loved when you talked about the things you loved, I always tried my best to pay attention, despite how boring it was.
But in the entirety of our relationship, you never once got to know me or deeply know the things that I loved. You knew this much: Im a twin, I have a sister, brother, mother, and two cats, I loved painting, I had myown car, I worked at the same job, I wanted to be a tattoo artist, I was shy, awkward, quiet, and timid, I giggled and laughed at all your jokes, I loved the beach and parks.
You never got to know Me though, you never got to know the stories behind my tattoos, why I loved going to the beach or parks, why I love the smell of coffee, why I loved glasses, why I paint, why I want to be a tattoo artist, what movies I loved/hated, why I stay at home then go out.
You never got to know the Why of who I am and how I came to be and it was so disapppointing. Quincy knew more about the deeper me than you ever did, and I'd only hung out with the dude maybe 5 times in my life.
I wish I could hate you, but I don't. I only hate the things you didn't do.
but I also hate that I didn't open up to you more, and when I did it always came off whiney. I wanted to tell you so many times that you're losing me and don't even know it. That breaking up with me didn't stop me from loving you, and that every time we would get together I was on my period and whenever we would break up I was always coming down from being on my period. That, the times we would talk when I was myself (no period) where always the best times because I wasn't being crazy. I didn't have courage when I was with you, I only had it when you were gone. Because when you were gone, I would have nothing else to lose. Whenever I had you though, I would lose you time and time again because I would say and do stupid shit to push you away.
Around August-Sept 2016, when we were coming to a cumbling end, I was playing your game. I wasn't going to give you or show you any affection because you would do that to me and I want you to get a taste of your own medicine. Of course when I did that, that was when you were actually 100 % willing to be in. I honestly just thought you were going to leave again, like you always did. Only this time, in Sept, you were gone. You were done. I had one last chance and I blew it all because I decided to be petty. And that night, of the Halloween party I wanted to tell you that I still loved you, I still liked you and that I couldn't like you because you were going to leave me like you always did. You were going to keep me for a week out of the month and then ditch me because I wasn't meeting your expectations or something. That's what I wanted to tell you that night. Not that I didn't like you, not even as a friend. I was telling you no as to walking me home because for me I associate that as courtship which only couples do, which we weren't. I was such a mess that night, and I jumbled up all my words then said the wrong things.
I want to rewind back to June-July 2016though, when Quincy, Sophie, Chris, Sohrob, you, and I all went to Balboa after work and you asked me about what to do with Brenda. She had told you that she liked you and you didn't know what to say. Why did you ask me that? What were you expecting or hoping I would say? I know I said " if you like her too than you should go for it" but what I really wanted to tell you was Fuck you. Fuck you because I still loved you and you don't ask an ex gf if you should persue someone else. I wanted to walk away the moment you said that, run away from the question if I could. I wish I did. You probably wouldn't have chased after me, Sophie probably. But you wouldn't, you never did. Only when it was all fun, but never when it actually counted.
I wish you tried, I wish you were persistant, I wish you didn't give up on me. It's the least you could've done for puting me through 8 months of Hell.
I wish you and I sat down, talked about everything we felt at a coffee shop and made plans to work things out. Both of us never listened to eachother, and we never made plans to fix things either. I wanted to fix things, I wanted us to work. I wanted to take things slow and just talk.
We were doomed from the start, but that doesn't me we couldnt realign the heavens and make things work for us.
I had so much hope for us; with you. I would fantasize us going to the Oscars as a power couple for a screenplay that you wrote or for a movie you directed. I even imagined taking your last name and having your kids. God I was so in love with you it hurt. It broke me and destroyed me in every way after we broke up. I kept bothering you and harrassing you in the hopes to fix things and do things to make them work but you didn't. At least not so soon. You just wanted to be alone but I was so afraid that you'd move on to someone else and be with them. You were constantly swarmed with girls around you all the time I figured you would've been taken within a matter of weeks. Little did I know that I was driving you further and further away. I wasn't giving you space to miss me, and even if I did, you were exhausted and wanted nothing to do with the drama of me anymore. Only if it included sex. Which is when we hooked up in April 2017. I hated that we cuddled after. I hated that I loved it and found comfort with it. I just wanted to angry fuck. I just wanted to hate fuck. But to both of our surprised it turned out to be something passionate and hot, and familiar. I missed that. When I was walking away from the car after we fucked I wanted to do two things: walk back to the car to (1) grab you by the backof the neck and pull you in for a passionate kiss goodbye (2) slap you across the face and say," thanks for fucking up my life and my feelings for anyone else; because of everything you did and didn't do I've become this cold hearted bitch that wants nothing to do with relationships.
I loved you
I loved the idea of you more.
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