When I first moved here it was without specific ambition. I spent the first few months floating around with no certain idea of what I should be doing. I had met you briefly years ago, and fallen in a childish love. Since I was not sure what I should be doing, I sought you out, wondering if you’d remember me. I thought you might be able to help me fulfil my dreams. For a month I relentlessly pursued you until we finally had the chance to meet face to face. I was nervous. I was sure you wouldn’t remember me from our first meeting; I had been just a kid. I told you what I wanted but you offered me something else. Desperate, and having no other options, I took it.
I dearly wanted for thing to work out, but we were not communicating well. I brought this to your attention and we came up with a solution. Then things were really good. I enjoyed my time with you. You bought me a phone, having paid for my plan ever since, so that we could stay in contact. We had great conversations. We laughed together and worked together. I felt like I was getting things done, and enjoying the process. But it was like I only knew one side of you and that side left. You changed and suddenly I felt lonely. I worked alone, and you didn’t even seem to care what I was doing. I tried to motivate myself, but I wanted more than anything for you to come alongside of me and tell me I was doing it right. Even if you had told me I was doing it wrong that would have been better than the silence with which you punished me.
Then she came along. I am sure she was quite nice, but I could never overcome my jealousy and befriend her. She was needy and you looked after her. She liked Boston Cream doughnuts so you always brought them for her. She didn’t know much about the transit system, so you bought her a bus pass and showed her around. You invited her over for supper. You joked with her and took care of her. You watched over her every need. I know I’m fully independent. I know how to buy my own bus pass, and yet how I longed for you to buy one for me. How I wished that you would take the time to bring me my favourite food. I wanted to be thought about. I longed to be cared for, but I felt neglected, just as neglected as I had before, but now I saw you pouring your energy into her.
Even after she left I was too badly hurt to say anything. I knew largely that I had been in the wrong and so I couldn’t accuse others. My jealousy was venom that ate at my soul, not something I was proud of. It was over a year after she left that I had the guts to mention to you that I felt abandoned. You never knew where I was, and as far as I could tell, you never cared. My heart slipped further and further from you. Occasionally you did things to get my hopes up. You’d take me on trips, take me out for supper or hand me cash. At times I’ve felt like I am using you. You don’t ask me for much, but you give. Sometimes I wish I had more to give you, or rather, I wish you wanted me more. I wish you valued me, or even needed me, but you don’t seem to care if I come or go. I’m not a better person because of our relationship, and I don’t think it will affect you if I leave.
I keep looking at the door. I imagine getting off my chair and walking out. What would it look like if our relationship ended? How will it change the way people look at me? Most people, except those who know me well, think our relationship is healthy. They think I’ve made a godly choice in choosing you. The people who know me tell me to get out of the relationship. They see it sucking away my life. They think I can do better. The reasons I have to stay are increasingly poor reasons. I’d have to pay for my own phone bill. No more free trips. In the fall, my laptop died. You gave me a new one. Would you want it back? Laptops, a phone, trips; those are no reason to stay in a relationship, but I am not sure I can be independent.
I keep hoping our relationship will mend itself, but I haven’t done much to aide in its healing. Your apathy towards me causes me to cease caring. I want out of this relationship. I am not sure when to leave. Neither am I sure how to leave. I don’t want to cut ties completely. Slowly I’ve distanced myself from you more and more. I think I’m ready to say goodbye, but something keep holding me here.