On what I should have said…

17 Aug

“Some of falling in love is allowing yourselves to be weak and knowing the other will be that mighty oak to lean on. Sounds like you’re both mighty oaks at all times. Oak trees don’t lean on each other though. Tom and I are one mighty oak, he is the trunk and I am the branches. Together we are a mighty source.” -Aunt Michele

My aunt told me this a few months ago after spilling my boy troubles. I liked a boy. He wasn’t perfect. At all. Seriously, he did some things that truly sucked. He definitely needed some work, but despite it all I still fell for him. I believed in his potential. In the man I knew he’d some day be.

It started off super cute. Texting all day, every day. Visits to the city, visits to Napa. A flower and my favorite type of wine on Valentine’s. But then, something happened. I got scared and I changed and because of that he did too.

The daily texts became non existent the day I moved to the city. It took him almost a month to visit me, despite living up the hill and working in the same building. It took longer than that just to see me, and when he did it wasn’t the same. There was no dating, no courtship, no cute calls or hand holding. It was sporadic. Late night calls telling me how much he liked me and plans for the future, late nights texts asking to hang out. But then, nothing while sober. Asking me what I was doing that weekend. Not to hang out, but just to know. I would receive more attention when he was gone in a different state or city than when he was within a few miles. He told me he didn’t want me to see anyone else, yet it was okay for him to text other girls while with me. Broken plans. There were were always either no plans, or broken ones. Empty words, empty promises. Disbelief when I told him I deserved more.

I didn’t trust him anymore and I think, he probably didn’t trust me.

I liked a boy and instead of being sweet to him, instead of caring for him, I was detached. I acted like I was too good for him. I played games and was cold. I let my insecurities and past take control. So, while complaining that he wouldn’t let me love him, I refused to let him love me. I never let him in or see my real emotions. I held him at a distance. I wouldn’t give in or be vulnerable because I’m used to being the strong one. I was scared of getting hurt. I don’t think he ever truly knew that I cared for him. Truly cared. My girlfriends knew, my guy friends knew, but he didn’t.

Instead of letting him hold me in public, instead of complimenting him, instead of letting him care for me, I told him about all the things he did that I hated. Never once the things that I loved.

http://alyssagil.tumblr.com/page/2

This is what I should have told him.

I loved how much you love your friends. How happy and little boyish you’d get when you would tell me stories or show me pictures. How cute it was when you bought one of them their favorite cereal while we were grocery shopping. I even secretly loved when you’d call every single one of them in the morning, just to check up.

You were so cute on the dance floor. I know you thought I was annoyed with you, or that you were embarrassing, but I’m just very reserved when I’m around people I don’t really know.

Watching you feel the greatness that is Hall & Oates.

You walked into places like you owned them.

The nicknames. The late night calls. Even when I hated it, a part of me liked it.

How considerate you could be.

Hearing you talk about your dad reminded me of the same respect I have for my mom.

Seeing you eat my desserts. Even when you didn’t want to because of your diet.

How you would pull me in, hold me close and let me cuddle for as long as I wanted.

Your belief in the power of the universe.

Telling me to suck it up when I was in pain, not because you were being rude but because you were just raised by guys.

Telling me that you wanted to take care of me. As scary as that is, I think I could have let you.

Your ability to let go of the past. It’s my daily struggle and I envy you for it.

When you remembered my favorite wine and bought it for Valentine’s Day.

The single rose I kept for so long.

How you could remember my friend’s names and the stories that I would tell you. You would actually ask about them and my family.

When you took me around the city just so I can get a specific tea. At the time, I didn’t realize how annoying it must have been to drive.

Your visits at my work. Seeing your face through the glass window, or seeing how scared you were when someone walked by my counter. You have no idea how something that simple made me so happy.

I miss the few times you came to my door step.

You’d get so incredibly jealous. That’s actually kinda a love/hate thing.

Your drive.

Your texts from far away to check up on me. Making me promise I wouldn’t talk to other people. That’s also a kinda love/hate thing.

The pictures you would send me. Even the ones with your shirt tucked in and your pants hiked so high. Especially the ones with pink eye.

The movie I’ve watched so many times.

Integrity, character and self respect.

How you could make me feel safe, even when I wouldn’t let myself trust you.

Seeing you in sweats and slippers.

You are so strong.

You don’t really get tan, but you still try.

I can’t believe I tripped and fell the first time I met you. To this day I wonder if you even saw or remembered that. God I hope you didn’t.

This is why I liked him. The things he never heard. I came to the city with these feelings, wondering what would ever happen to us. With baggage, but hope that I could set aside my craziness. The past few months I blamed him, and never really looked at my behavior. I’m not saying he’s completely innocent. Obviously, he isn’t. But I’m finally recognizing that neither was I.

Maybe I was naive. Many have said this is just how it is in the city. But, I’ve dated other city boys and it just wasn’t like that.

The next time I feel this pain, I want it to be without regret. If anything, I’m going to wholeheartedly be open with the next one. I tried so hard to protect myself from getting hurt, but it inevitably happened anyways.

While packing my car full of boxes, I looked down my hill and saw this boy walking home hand in hand with a girl. Before passing my place, they walked to the opposite side of the street and he held her.

He held her.

He held her.

He held her.

Things come full circle. Now I’m leaving knowing it was too little too late.

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2 Responses to “On what I should have said…”

  1. Tom August 19, 2011 at 3:42 PM #

    Hey. Just stumbled across your Blog. Really good read.

    Just wanted to say that was a really powerfully emotional post. Must have been very therapeutic?

    • yummyshebaked August 19, 2011 at 10:31 PM #

      Thanks! It was very therapeutic to write… scary to post. But, I’m glad I got it out there.

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