Well, it’s official. I’ve been given the brush off. After two, solid, good weeks, after we’ve finally begun to communicate like adults, after things were finally looking up in my opinion, the boy has decided that “just friends” is what he wants.
Never mind the fact that he got jealous over pencils in January (a Christmas present from someone else), or that he seemed a bit perturbed that a new boy came sniffing around, or that I have been willing to rearrange how I communicate with him, completely breaking all of my standard rules to make sure he is “comfortable” enough with me to keep me around…
Never mind my feelings on the matter. He thinks that we can go from the all day every day conversation we had in the beginning, when he asked me to watch his place, meet his mother (by myself, please note), dragged me to breakfast with his friends even though I didn’t want to, and he would chase me and tell me how he couldn’t wait to see me and invite me to play drunken xbox with him… He thinks we can go from that to just friends.
Because I make him uncomfortable. I’m pushing him into a relationship. I’m asking too much because I think that just friends is a downgrade.
He thinks I just like him for… less wholesome reasons. Never mind the fact that the time those less wholesome reasons happened can be counted on one hand since New Year’s. Yeah, that’s all I want from him.
My last post was about how people misuse words. I also said that it wouldn’t bother me if he read my blog. It still wouldn’t bother me, but it’s a non-issue because he’s never read it…
And he’s had the opportunity to do so.
When I started this blog back up, I mentioned that my jealousy for someone else’s writing is what inspired me…
He never read my blog to see that I was even willing to give him credit for inspiring me to write again. He never read any of these posts to see how I felt about him, or the struggles I’ve been going through in my day to day life. He never read about what it is for me to be adopted, or the feelings of abandonment I have because of that.
He never read my apology…
I put my life on display, and gift-wrapped it with a shiny digital bow, and he couldn’t be bothered to read anything I had to say.
But, he wants to be my friend.
I gave my best friend, the one who knows all my secrets, permission to tell the boy anything he asked about me. I let the boy know he could ask anything. He refused. He didn’t want to know anything about my past.
Yet, he wants to be my friend.
I have attempted to keep the lines of communication open, to the point of feeling like a stalker, because he is too busy to be bothered to send me the occasional “hello” or to respond to my texts.
He says he wants to be my friend.
I put my feelings on hold in order to figure out what it was that he was actually saying to me, to understand what he meant when he said things that were confusing and were mixed signals, and I adjusted to his way of communicating. He never budged and looked at things from my perspective.
And he still thinks he wants to be my friend.
A friend reads another friend’s words. My book club girls read this blog, and they comment on Facebook or through (heaven forbid) face to face communication. And let’s not forget that I read his.
A friend would be curious about another friend’s past. He offered to let me ask his mother the questions I was uncomfortable asking him, and he’s introduced me to his friends, who have all been willing to tell me about him. I know because I asked questions about him, and listened to the stories they told about how they met and things.
A friend reaches out and makes contact. A friend does not ignore the messages from another friend. I have friends that when they don’t hear from me in a few days (sometimes even a day), they text to see if I’m alright. If I wait to hear from him, I don’t. It’s silence, and me having a conversation with myself.
A friend is willing to put angry feelings aside and think about how perhaps their words could have been misconstrued. A friend puts in the effort to make the communication clear, because the friendship is important to them.
He accused me of not being his friend, because I asked to kiss him while we were watching an episode of a show we both liked (and he had already seen) and that kiss devolved into more carnal activities. He accused me of not wanting anything from him but said carnal activities because I am unwilling to live with the broken heart and damaged ego that being friendzoned would bring.
He has never been my friend.
But I was his. I tried to be his.
But there are other aspects of my life that need attention; attention I have been wasting on trying to make him comfortable with me, apparently unsuccessfully.
And I have other options out there. I met a boy who told me I was beautiful in five different ways, before we’d even met face to face. And I’ve been questioned about my singleness by a handful of other boys, all with a great deal of intelligence, that I haven’t been willing to give the time of day, because the boy I’m seeing meant a lot.
If he is willing to throw all of my effort and concern away because I don’t want a constant reminder of how little he thinks of me. Well then, I’m done. I’ve put my effort into this relationship. He hasn’t. And I’m tired of being the one who cares.
I’m tired of making excuses for him while all of my friends tried to tell me he didn’t appreciate me.
I’m tired of wasting money on presents for him to show him that I care, when he couldn’t be bothered to buy me a Christmas present, or even keep our date on Valentine’s Day.
I’m tired of fighting because when I say I need to know that I mean something to him, he takes it to mean that I don’t see all the ways he tries.
I’m tired of being so unimportant, he can’t be bothered to answer a text, when I know he answers other texts from other people. He’s done it in the middle of spending time with me. He pushed me off his lap to answer a phone call. He’s answered phone calls while we were on dates.
He’s never really cared about me or my needs, and I allowed it.
But I am done.