I don’t usually oust my religiosity on teh forumz, but i feel like venting in a kooky fashion
Last year i was in a short distance mutual-affection-disguised-in-platonic-label-turned-long-distance-talking-stage. Distance must have played a role, but my feelings were slowly tapering off once i was coming to the conclusion that we had different mutually unfulfilled needs. Obviously i recognize that i was very very emotionally immature at the time, to the point where i interpreted the pain of my anxious attachment as love. Once i confessed to him that i was beginning to fall in love with him, (he had always made it clear that he loved me and had never felt this way about anyone else), he replied that he wasn’t sure that was such a good idea and that he didn’t feel like he was much deserving of love and that our then situation was not ideal (we didn’t know if we would reunite in the same country etc). Even typing this now i feel rage bubble inside me because i had held him at arm’s length for the longest time from fear that he would hurt me and when i allowed myself to be vulnerable and tell him that i loved him he took that moment away from me. I don’t know why this episode makes me so intensely angry/resentful and bitter because it’s literally nothing, like i know people who’ve been through worse. So why am i so hypersensitive. I can tell a million other anecdotes. The one word i can use to describe what we had is tepid, fucking lukewarm, moderate. I never thought i was the kind of person who could be passionate about someone, i mean i’ve never longed for romance and love, but good god the kind of liaison you build on “logic” and “reason” and “mutual understanding” is so fucking underwhelming and disappointing and i can’t help but feel small and ridiculous for inexplicably longing for passion when i don’t even have the countenance to love with unabashed abandon and always feel the need to police my emotions.
Anyways, there once was q point where i felt so very comfortable with this moid and even aired out my host of insecurities, and around the time where that anecdote occurred, i would pray “if this thing isn’t meant to happen and if there’s no shred of goodness in it, God let me know.” There came a point after that where even if i
wanted to feel something, id reach inside and feel nothing towards him. He continued the tug and push dance up until this year, and at one point i had to shoot him down, almost cruelly but not even as c
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