Quiet Girl
1/1
It’s been over two months, nearly three actually, since we had broken up. 10 weeks and one day to be exact. Not that I was keeping track, but I was keeping track.
I still wasn’t past the point of hugging my knees to my chest in the shower and crying about it.
I wasn’t past the point of waiting to reach out and hold his hand during the Sunday sermon.
I wasn’t past the point of staring wistfully at the picture of him I had over my bed.
I wasn’t past the point of checking his Facebook wall to see what he was up to.
I wasn’t past the point of trying to figure out what to say to him.
I wasn’t past him.
I’ve put a lot of thought into it over the past 71 days and I think I finally have my words. Before we broke up, I took a good week or two trying to figure out what I wanted to say to him, but then when he was actually there on my couch all I could do was curl up against his chest and cry.
I’m better now. I have my words. And one day I’ll take these words and I’ll give them to him. Because one day I need to show him that I’m better and that I’ve learned to use my words. I’ve always had them, I swear I have, but I just haven’t been able to get them to come out.
I’m not over you because to be completely honest I never stopped loving you. I don’t cry over boys I don’t care about, so I guess that means you matter to me. People keep asking when I’m taking your picture down, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m still working on it. There’s something about seeing that smile- the one I caused- and the joy it causes me to relieve in remembering that day.
I love my memories. The ones where we’re happy together and I didn’t have to worry about your college and my school schedules meshing so we could spend 5 minutes a day, if I was lucky, to send a few texts back and forth. I hated being a last priority because you were busy. I was fine with it was marching band. I was fine with coming after school and your ensembles. But you put me behind your friends, who were mostly female, and a fraternity, that you told me you weren’t going to pledge for because you didn’t want to. I couldn’t handle that. Who had you become?
You always told me that we would be alright if I was able to visit you more often. Sure, you’ll drop a weekend to spend with me. But, I can’t drive and you know that. My parents won’t bring me up because they both work and have lives. You know that. You drive. Your family is here. Why won’t you just come home? You did at the beginning of the year and it wasn’t a problem. The only difference now is that fraternity and those girls.
I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t want to break up. Why didn’t you realize that?
“There was nothing we could’ve done.”
I resent that to this day. We could’ve done something. I tried to do something. You didn’t call or answer mine- even though the weekly calls were your idea to making us work. You ignored my texts- although finally when I stopped sending them you didn’t notice either way. You forgot about me.
And now. This is the best part of the whole ordeal. We go to church together and sit there next to each other and you joke with me like you did when we were dating. You talk to me and laugh with me and share a hymnal with me like we’re the same buddy-buddy couple we’ve always been. But we’re not.
Stop it.
Stop being nice. Stop making me miss you. Stop reminding me of what I’ve lost. Stop being so okay with the break-up. Stop smiling. Stop being the strong one for once and show me that you have some emotions and that this is hurting you as much as it hurts me.
I have my words. I swear to you I have my words. And even though tears flow freely when I even think about them and try to organize my thoughts, the words exist.
I miss you.
I’m mad at you.
I’m sad because of you.
I want to be over you.
I have so much fun flirting and being single, but I know I wouldn’t date any of them.
Because I can’t get over you.
Please, let me be over you. I wish I could say I’m going to pick up my phone and text you and find a time we can talk so I can tell you all the pain I’ve felt over this break-up. But I know I won’t. I don’t want to disrupt you and your happiness (even though you’ve disrupted me and my happiness countless times).
So here you go, Matt.
All those words you told me I needed to use. They’re right here.
I told you I had them.
One day, I swear I’ll find the strength to tell you them all…
I still wasn’t past the point of hugging my knees to my chest in the shower and crying about it.
I wasn’t past the point of waiting to reach out and hold his hand during the Sunday sermon.
I wasn’t past the point of staring wistfully at the picture of him I had over my bed.
I wasn’t past the point of checking his Facebook wall to see what he was up to.
I wasn’t past the point of trying to figure out what to say to him.
I wasn’t past him.
I’ve put a lot of thought into it over the past 71 days and I think I finally have my words. Before we broke up, I took a good week or two trying to figure out what I wanted to say to him, but then when he was actually there on my couch all I could do was curl up against his chest and cry.
I’m better now. I have my words. And one day I’ll take these words and I’ll give them to him. Because one day I need to show him that I’m better and that I’ve learned to use my words. I’ve always had them, I swear I have, but I just haven’t been able to get them to come out.
I’m not over you because to be completely honest I never stopped loving you. I don’t cry over boys I don’t care about, so I guess that means you matter to me. People keep asking when I’m taking your picture down, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m still working on it. There’s something about seeing that smile- the one I caused- and the joy it causes me to relieve in remembering that day.
I love my memories. The ones where we’re happy together and I didn’t have to worry about your college and my school schedules meshing so we could spend 5 minutes a day, if I was lucky, to send a few texts back and forth. I hated being a last priority because you were busy. I was fine with it was marching band. I was fine with coming after school and your ensembles. But you put me behind your friends, who were mostly female, and a fraternity, that you told me you weren’t going to pledge for because you didn’t want to. I couldn’t handle that. Who had you become?
You always told me that we would be alright if I was able to visit you more often. Sure, you’ll drop a weekend to spend with me. But, I can’t drive and you know that. My parents won’t bring me up because they both work and have lives. You know that. You drive. Your family is here. Why won’t you just come home? You did at the beginning of the year and it wasn’t a problem. The only difference now is that fraternity and those girls.
I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t want to break up. Why didn’t you realize that?
“There was nothing we could’ve done.”
I resent that to this day. We could’ve done something. I tried to do something. You didn’t call or answer mine- even though the weekly calls were your idea to making us work. You ignored my texts- although finally when I stopped sending them you didn’t notice either way. You forgot about me.
And now. This is the best part of the whole ordeal. We go to church together and sit there next to each other and you joke with me like you did when we were dating. You talk to me and laugh with me and share a hymnal with me like we’re the same buddy-buddy couple we’ve always been. But we’re not.
Stop it.
Stop being nice. Stop making me miss you. Stop reminding me of what I’ve lost. Stop being so okay with the break-up. Stop smiling. Stop being the strong one for once and show me that you have some emotions and that this is hurting you as much as it hurts me.
I have my words. I swear to you I have my words. And even though tears flow freely when I even think about them and try to organize my thoughts, the words exist.
I miss you.
I’m mad at you.
I’m sad because of you.
I want to be over you.
I have so much fun flirting and being single, but I know I wouldn’t date any of them.
Because I can’t get over you.
Please, let me be over you. I wish I could say I’m going to pick up my phone and text you and find a time we can talk so I can tell you all the pain I’ve felt over this break-up. But I know I won’t. I don’t want to disrupt you and your happiness (even though you’ve disrupted me and my happiness countless times).
So here you go, Matt.
All those words you told me I needed to use. They’re right here.
I told you I had them.
One day, I swear I’ll find the strength to tell you them all…