My Teddy Bear doesn't realize it, but his days are numbered. I care for him too much to keep him in my sick and twisted fantasy.
He doesn't deserve what I'm putting him through -- even if he doesn't know what's going on.
And what is going on, you ask? I'm not in love with him.
He's a great guy -- no doubt. But the love I had for him died a slow, painful death in the midst of lies, manipulations, and no sex. If that makes me sound superficial, I'm sorry.
Trust me when I tell you that I tried. Lord knows I did. I did everything I possibly could to make things good. I tried to understand when he told me that sex wasn't the only way to be intimate. I checked my emotions when he told me that the way I relayed information was too roundabout to be good for him. I shut up when he shut down my ideas, thoughts, feelings. I really did.
Now there's nothing left. But I care for him too much to hurt him right now.
Of course, one could argue that everyday I make him think that what we have can last is one more day that'll hurt him. And they'd probably be right.
I'm just as wrong as New Boo was when he lived with me and wouldn't come home. And I hate myself for it.
Some days I think we can work it out. I haven't completely abandoned that idea, actually.
I think if I lay my case out to him, he might come around. Or he may accuse me of being too superficial...too selfish and self-centered...to be worthy of his love.
Either way...something's got to give. I'm not getting any younger and neither is he. We both deserve to be happy -- even if it's not with each other.
He doesn't deserve what I'm putting him through -- even if he doesn't know what's going on.
And what is going on, you ask? I'm not in love with him.
He's a great guy -- no doubt. But the love I had for him died a slow, painful death in the midst of lies, manipulations, and no sex. If that makes me sound superficial, I'm sorry.
Trust me when I tell you that I tried. Lord knows I did. I did everything I possibly could to make things good. I tried to understand when he told me that sex wasn't the only way to be intimate. I checked my emotions when he told me that the way I relayed information was too roundabout to be good for him. I shut up when he shut down my ideas, thoughts, feelings. I really did.
Now there's nothing left. But I care for him too much to hurt him right now.
Of course, one could argue that everyday I make him think that what we have can last is one more day that'll hurt him. And they'd probably be right.
I'm just as wrong as New Boo was when he lived with me and wouldn't come home. And I hate myself for it.
Some days I think we can work it out. I haven't completely abandoned that idea, actually.
I think if I lay my case out to him, he might come around. Or he may accuse me of being too superficial...too selfish and self-centered...to be worthy of his love.
Either way...something's got to give. I'm not getting any younger and neither is he. We both deserve to be happy -- even if it's not with each other.
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