Here’s What I’m Going To Tell Him When He Asks What It Was Like To Love You

Eventually he’s going to ask me about you. I can see it in the way he lingers at the end of a question. He’s wondering what happened that made me trust him so little. He questions if I ever think about you or if I miss you. He wants to know why my insecurities are so deep and why opening up to him is as painful as trying to open a box that’s been super glued shut.

So what am I going to say when he does bring you up? What am I going to tell him when he finally musters up the courage to dig deep into those trenches of pain?

You’re wondering too aren’t you? You’re wondering what I would tell other people about the pain that you caused me.

You want to know what I’ll say to the next person I decide to love? Here’s what I’m going to tell him.

My love suffocated you. My love was too much for you to even deal with. You were confused how someone like me could ever love someone like you. You questioned every act of service. You questioned every affirmation. You questioned every single thing I did out of love for you. You didn’t want me to love you but you didn’t know how to tell me not too.

I don’t miss you. I don’t miss you at all because the way that I felt with you and the way that I feel with him are two folds different. You made me doubt myself while he makes me remember who I am. He tells me to challenge my thoughts while you always wanted me to play it safe. You told me to change my quirks while he loves the fact that I can’t help but measure my sandwich before I eat it.

I do think about you. I think about what you did to me and what you’re doing now. I don’t wish you bad but I don’t really care if you’re not doing well. It’s weird how someone so important can become something so obsolete. So while I let my thoughts drift back to you sometimes, they’re mostly in wonder if you’re still doing the same thing to other girls that you did to me. Then I think about how thankful I am that you chose to let me go.

Sometimes I want to text you to tell you how angry I am at you. I want to tell you how because of you, this great guy that I have now is questioning me. He’s questioning me because he knows how terrified I am to be vulnerable. While he’s created this real and trusting environment for me to be me, you were the one who created a false reality of the same thing. So I’m scared to trust him because of what you did. And that makes me so angry.

I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you even though you ruined a lot of things for me. I don’t hate you despite the fact that you’ve made me into this cautious, guarded human instead of the free loving, jump into anything heart first person I used to be. I don’t hate you because that would take away from loving myself and loving him. You don’t deserve the hate. You deserve to just be a non-issue.

I will tell him all of my secrets. Every single one. All the ones that made me think that I was going to be unlovable in your eyes. I will tell him the ones I managed to work up the courage to tell you and the ones I never had the balls too.

You may have cracked me but you didn’t shatter me. This is why I know I can love him. This is why I know I can let him into my heart even though it’s hard. I know that I can tell him the things that I am so damn scared too. I know that when he asks about you I’m going to tell him everything.

He’s thinking about asking me about you. I know he is. I’m no longer scared though of that topic. It’s a part of me but it isn’t all of me.

And him? Well he’s not you and that makes him worth the uncomfortable vulnerability.