I wanted to tell you so many things when we meet, but it seems that will never happen. So I don’t really have another choice but to talk about my feelings to a phone, again. Maybe you’ll listen, maybe you won’t — it doesn’t really matter at this point. I just wanted to put it out there before my birthday. You know, starting with a clean slate, or something like that. 

Cutting contact with you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I cared about you deeply. I worried about you all the time. But after you went back in April, slowly but surely, it started to feel like there wasn’t really space for me in your life anymore. And that’s okay — it was a very messed-up situation, you needed space, and I wanted to support you. But in the end, I felt like my needs and feelings weren’t really considered anymore. That since you didn’t need me as much, it was somehow okay to be careless with me. Having that closeness, curiosity, reciprocity, and consistency in the beginning meant the world to me — but it started to fade, and suddenly there was this wall between us, which really pushed my buttons — I was terribly triggered, and I felt like if I didn’t stop overthinking and overanalyzing what was going on, I would go crazy. I thought time would help us focus on what we needed to figure out, and that it would give us another chance to actually find our way back to each other. I hoped you would be back in the middle of June… I tried to put my feelings aside and just look inward, but you were always on my mind. So I waited. But June passed, then July too, and I started to feel like I had to let you go. My heart refused — still refuses, actually — but I kept replaying our last conversations in my head, and I started to think that maybe this whole thing didn’t mean as much to you as it meant to me. That in the end, we were just two strangers who thought they’d found something great, but life happened, and we had to sober up and move on. I tried to move on. 

Then you messaged me a few weeks ago, and all the feelings I had tried to push down came rushing back. The hope, the excitement... I thought I’d finally have the chance to hear your side of the story, to tell you what I’d been through, and to just see each other in person — without a fucking phone — and understand what happened during spring. And summer. All I wanted was that one conversation to see, if the connection we had was still there. The timing wasn’t great, but you told me our schedules would align again. That you wanted to see me, spend quality time with me, stay the night at mine… I was relieved. I thought it had all been worth it in the end. Holding on.

But now I’m confused. Again. I’m overthinking. Again. What are you waiting for? Did you get cold feet? Are you overwhelmed? I’ve been waiting for your answer for a week, but you’re just… ignoring me. I would never do that to someone I care about, or cared about. At first, I thought you were just nervous. Then I thought you’d lost your phone. Or that you stayed in Poland for a few more days. But now, I’m out of ideas. And my brain… it always comes up with new ideas — that’s where I shine — but this? I just can’t wrap my head around it. Why come back and stir everything up again if you’re not serious? I just wanted to talk. This is so unfair. I really don’t deserve this. 

I tried to give you everything I could to help you through this messed-up situation: time, patience, understanding, compassion… Because I really thought you were worth it. That you deserved it. But almost six months later, I’m here — empty and confused, disappointed and hurt, because I wanted it to be something real, not just another lesson. But it is what it is.

Take care, Lindo. I hope things work out for you — I really do. And I hope someday I’ll understand why things unfolded the way they did. I don’t think I ever will though, but a girl can hope, can’t she?