This week I took a risk. I drove 6 hours to see a boy. All because he asked me to come hang out with him at his lake house. He asked and I dropped everything. Because he has me wrapped around his finger.
Within 20 minutes of being there, I found out I was the second girl he had up there. The second. So there I sat, at midnight, after driving 6 hours, to find out I was a backup plan. Just the friend. Not the girl he really wanted. That girl left already.
I stuck it out, making awkward conversation for a few minutes before going to bed. The next 2 days were a blur of moonshine and boat rides and pinched nerves in fingers and arguments. Bad arguments. Big arguments. Petty arguments. And lots of tears from me. 7 months worth of tears.
I had enough. I sat down, exhausted from not doing anything right. From being “too loud.” From not saying the right thing. From being “too Cassie.” I sat down, crying my eyes out, looked at him and told him I was in love with him. That I had been for awhile and that I don’t know what to do about it.
He doesn’t love me back.
In fact, he told me that my list of “red flags” was pretty long.
He told me there’s no way I can love him, we barely dated. As if I can control the fact that my heart, brain, and soul for some godforsaken reason connected, looked at him, and went…yup, he’s the one that’s gonna wreck you.
I know I shouldn’t love him. I know. I know that this was my own fault. I set myself up for disaster going up there. I knew I couldn’t go up there and just be his friend. But I had to go. I had to try.
This year has been a year of really bad choices on my end. I have a lot of regret and a lot of pain to deal with. I take full responsibility for that. And it’s going to be a long road back to the girl I want to be.
But even with the hurt. Even with the tears, and the not being good enough, and the fact that I showed him all my crazy this week, I can’t bring myself to regret him.
I had a really bad day two weeks ago. He called me 31 times until I picked up. Leaving voicemails with every call to make me laugh. His dog is my favorite thing in the world, so he sent pictures of him. He took care of me even when I didn’t want to tell him what was going on.
That’s why I love him.
I know some of his dark parts, not all, but some. And he knows a lot of mine. I loved him more for his. Mine were too much for him.
We didn’t fight fair this week. We were mean to each other. I put expectations on him. He took me way too seriously.
While I thought maybe I could tell him how I feel, he thought maybe he would have a good fishing buddy.
I expected too much from someone who couldn’t give me what I want.
I blame myself.
Not in a victim way, not in a way where he is blameless…but I knew better. I knew better.
I have a broken heart. I’ve had one for a long time. I thought it was mending. I’ve gone on dates. I’ve even told him about them, because he has become one of my truest, best friends. But now I see that my heart wasn’t better, I just put a friendship shaped band aid over the rip, because at least then I got a part of him.
We didn’t say goodbye when I left. I pet his sweet pup, looked at the back of him while he sat at the kitchen table, and walked away. I left a note on his car, but no words were exchanged.
We won’t talk. It’s too much for him right now, and I’m too hurt. I’m embarrassed at my own behavior, and I’m sad for both of us. Because regardless of how it plays out, there’s something there.
Maybe it is just friendship. To me, right now, it’s more. I hope one day I can fix things. I hope one day we can laugh about the crazy week in Wisconsin.
I hope one day it will all make sense. It doesn’t right now, though.
Right now it just hurts. And there weren’t enough hours of driving or Miranda Lambert and Taylor Swift songs to make the tears stop.
It’s really hard to love someone who doesn’t love you back.
But at least he knows.
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