l o v e . l i v e . t r a v e l. e a t. p r a i s e.
She bursts through her door, slams it and skids across her bed, tears running down her cheeks. Where to go from here? Who to talk to about this? She has an idea. She picks up her phone, the screen blurry through her tears. She let’s her thoughts and emotions do the typing…
I’m trying to fall out of love with you. Here are some things I need you to do to help with this:
I know this all sounds very demanding and like I’m asking a lot. But I’m not deliberately doing it. It is just really hard for me. I want to be your friend. I want you in my life. I want you to care for me, even if it’s not in the way I want deep down. I sometimes just need reminding of reality. I need to know how to have you in my life without being able to hold you. I need to learn how to love you as my friend and not as any more than that. I need reminding that there won’t be a time when I will be the one you’ll come home to or share secrets with about yourself that you’ve never told anyone.
I can’t bake you your favourite dessert when you need cheering up. I can’t bring you soup when you’re sick. I can’t embrace you when you’ve had the worst day. I can’t mend your favourite jeans when you’ve insisted on playing basketball in them. I can’t hold your hand when you’re going through a tough time. I can’t dance with you when you’re happy. I can’t laugh with you when you find absolutely everything funny. I can’t cook you dinner when there’s not much food in the house and you have no idea what to do. I can’t buy you spontaneous, thoughtful gifts, just because. I can’t do these things because you have chosen someone else to do them for you. And that’s okay. I just need a little bit of help in remembering this and trying to stop wishing I was the one you’d chosen.
Her finger hovers over the send button. She draws a deep breath, then sighs as she takes her hand away from the screen. She walks away.