I have given you all I am. All I could give, given the circumstances. I held back, yes. I was scared that I’d get lost. That I’d give too much, that you’d not want it, that you couldn’t, wouldn’t handle it. That you’d not reciprocate. I knew all along you couldn’t. A married man, your vows tied you to another. So I held back, yet you received more than anyone has ever. I offered and gave, on my terms, without realising that I got too close. An ocean away is too close to you.
I held back, and you wanted more. I gave you more than you ever realise. I may have been too measured on yahoo, I may have kept my clothes on on skype. But my hopes. My dreams. My late night what-ifs. I gave those all to you. And you couldn’t have them. I knew from the beginning. You never really alluded otherwise. It was always clear, plain and simple – if it came to it, I won’t be the option you’d go for. Not given the circumstances. You wanted more without being able to give all. That is our doom.
I’d give all. If I wasn’t a daydream from another life time. If I was a remote, future, small possibility.
You made it clear that I’m not. And so I held back. Which you interpreted as being less deep in than you. How untrue is that.
And still I’m there, every day, every night, offering, and begging. Pathetic. I gave it all, my dreams and my hopes. Most of my body. And now… Now I’m beginning to see. Three and a half years of pretending it’s all okay. That life sucks, but we are bigger than it. That we can get through it. That there’s a light at the end of this tunnel. That there’s an us.
You have told me not to give you an ultimatum because we both know what the result would be.
And now I am taking that on board. I am finally letting it sink it. And I will try not to beg any more. I should have more self esteem than that. But you said once, real intimacy is not wanting, not needing to pretend. Being perfectly comfortable with the other, knowing they accept us and want us no matter what. I kinda wanted that to be true. I kinda went overboard, and I let slip wishes and hopes that you couldn’t make come true. My sharing of these dreams, these wishes, I thought would let you know I was letting you in, I was open and not pretending. It backfired, I see now. It made you feel inadequate for not being able to fulfil them. And being made to feel that way by others all your life, you didn’t need it from me. So you shut me out.
I am sorry.
And now I only have one request. If you think that it is so… that it would take a miracle, but more likely another life time… that us, there cannot be such a thing… Then I only ask you return my dreams and hopes to me. I doubt it, but who knows… I may be able to recycle them yet.