Manipulation.

I had always hated confrontation, and this was why. I had no power. I had to lay out all of my cards and let him read them, and I had no choice what his reaction was. God, I wanted him to feel the same way I did. That was particularly frustrating, considering the fact that I still couldn’t figure out what in the hell I was feeling.

The first thing that he did was apologize again, and I told him that he didn’t have anything to be sorry for. “Still,” he said, “It was rude.” I didn’t argue again. I kind of wanted him to feel bad. But I wanted him to feel bad in a different way than he did feel bad.

Part of me was just so angry, and I pretended I was angry with him. I pretended that if I was angry enough at him for everything - for not letting me manipulate him, for luring me in, for caring about someone else - then I wouldn’t be as angry at myself for falling for all of it and trying to blame it all on him.

A sense of calm started to make it’s way over me, which confused me, until I remembered who I was sitting next to. “Don’t you dare,” I threatened, “Don’t you dare try to change me when I can’t change you.” And as forceful as I wanted to sound, my voice cracked, letting him see what he already knew: I was vulnerable. I had given him everything, and he didn’t want it. It wasn’t his fault. Frankly, no one was to blame, and that made it all a lot harder.

He said he was sorry, and I said nothing. I just left. As I was walking away, he said something about seeing me later.

Clearly, he didn’t know me as well as I had thought he did.