The thing about pain, is that it demands to be felt.

12 hours ago, I didn’t think you could ever hurt me, not on purpose at least. Well, to be fair, I guess this isn’t on purpose.

You were hesitant to pick things back up as we usually do before falling asleep, and I asked why. You said you didn’t feel right doing things with me when you had… ‘unanswered questions’. You were afraid that what we’re doing may incline certain expectations that you will not be able to meet. You were worried that because we view physical stuff to mean different things, it would mislead me. So I asked what all this meant for you. And too quickly you responded, “Nothing.”

I don’t recall the last time I was slapped in the face, but I vaguely remembering it feeling this way. 

A pain that’s sudden, forceful, lingering. The kind that knocks the breath out of you. I slowly retracted my hand from across your chest. I was silent. Or at least I think I was silent. I can’t remember what you said or what I said next. All I could think of was the tingling in my fingers, the sudden weight in the pit of my stomach. You swiftly but sincerely apologized for ruining the moment. (Although at that moment I was afraid it was more than the moment that was ruined.) And after a few minutes, you fell asleep.

I tossed and turned beside you, not only because I was restless, but also because I did not want a part of me touching you. Not even an inch. I had an unsettling feeling of urgency. All I wanted to do was to get out of there, to be so far away from you. I had no idea what time it was, but it was obviously dark. I left your house after gathering my things. I think you were awake. I was wondering if I woke you up with my shuffling in the dark. But worse, I didn’t even care if you were watching me pack up my stuff.

After a near magical weekend of talking to each other, being lost in each other, it had to end with this. 

I don’t think I have ever been that honest with anyone I’ve ever dated. It took me a while to be as good as you when it comes to communicating. Or I guess as willing as you are to communicate. I meant every word I said last night. They were hard to spit out, and it was a constant struggle every time I said something, but I knew you appreciated it. I knew that you had a right to know what I was thinking, how I was feeling. So I shared them, all of them. And maybe that’s what pushed you away? Or made you realize how much I wanted to make this work? Because for the first time ever, or at least in a really long time, we were not on the same page.

I don’t just do these things with anyone. I do them with you, for you, to you, because I care about you and because you matter to me. It didn’t seem like that was reciprocated. “Nothing,” you said. This all meant nothing to you. It definitely meant something more than ‘nothing’ to me. And you saying it meant nothing made me feel cheap and used. And I didn’t want to touch you or even look at you. 

How did all this change in less than 12 hours? 

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