I thought that I had found comfort in something new. For a split second I really thought that maybe I loved him.
But I realized that I don’t…I loved having someone near me who understood me. I loved having compassion surround me when he walked into the room. But I didn’t love him. Just certain things about him. And that’s okay….right?
Well it would have been if I had maintained control of myself and if I hadn’t spoken on impulse. I thought that maybe it was just me being weird for a few days. But then 3 days turned to 7 and I still don’t feel anything.
There isn’t even anything in me that wants to reach out right now….not to him at least. I know that I hurt him. I’ve explained why I withdrew…but I don’t expect him to accept that and just be okay. Maybe he has. I hope he has. I don’t want to have that conversation. I don’t want any part in those feelings. I don’t want to tell him to his face that the attachment is not mutual. But he knows. I’ve mentioned it. But I haven’t said it explicitly and a piece of me is bothered by it…but overall I’m not concerned with it.