The pain and frustration within me felt ready to explode and my tears were just the brink of it.
In all the years we had know each other, he was the one person whom I’d hoped would understand me the best. Instead he had misunderstood everything so badly and in a way that hurt more than knowing he would never feel the same way about me.
My heart felt crushed, and I was no where near prepared to have this conversation with him, not in this state.
He looked like he needed an answer, he needed something.
“No…I don’t like men"
He wrinkled his eyebrows and said, “But…you kissed me?”
“Right…I kissed you…no one else”
Too many thoughts were running through my head causing me to say all the wrong things.
“What’s going on?” he said taking a few steps towards me.
I was so afraid of you. Sometimes I think I fucked everything up because I was too young, too naive… But now, now that I’m not that young anymore, I see that I was just afraid of how I felt about you. How you put butterflies inside my belly, how I got chills when you touched me, how I was always on the edge of kissing you. Every time you said you felt the same, I ran from you like you would hurt me, I ran like I was this scary animal lost away from its habitat, afraid of the cars, the people, the sun, the touch… You were so brave, babe, you were so brave and I was so fucking scared all the time! You wouldn’t mind if anyone knew about us while I was freaked out only knowing that you knew how I felt, that you felt the same, that you wanted me with you every day and night. I couldn’t sleep well without you, remember that? I was so needy I felt pathetic. And you were always taking me to places where we could just kiss, watch the sky and ignore the whole stupid world. The world used to make us so sad, it still makes you feel miserable? It still makes you feel like nothing is worth it? I hope not. One day I decided to push away because I knew I could never make you truly happy, it would always be missing something to you, something that I couldn’t give you. You went crazy with that, you told me that I ruined everything… I know that after somedays, when we started seeing each other again, you said you were sorry, that I would never fuck up what we had… Well, I think I did. I mean, it wasn’t only me, but I did. I ruined everything hardcore. That day you saw me crying and passing out drunk because I couldn’t stand anything anymore was the day you decided to leave me. I’m sure. I know it with all my heart! You felt guilty, you thought it had something to do with you, but it hasn’t! I swear!!! I just hated myself so much. You stopped answering me… the door, the messages, the calls, everything. They told me you were a liar, that you were only using me, but really? You would never do that, you were too kind, you liked me too much, you heart beated too fast when you were with me… I was even more sure by the way you started to look at me when we casually saw each other at school, the streets, some parties… You made everything up so I could finally get over you. You broke me into a million pieces and it took me ages, literally ages, to get over you completely. To stop feeling this urge to run after you, to kiss you, feel your body, your smile against my skin. I know I hurt you, but well, you hurt me too, and you did a good job making me cry until I sleep. After something like 2 years and something, when I saw you and felt nothing, it hit me like a train. That moment, I knew that everything I felt was really gone and it made me so sad I almost threw up. The moment you saw me at Gabe’s door I saw your hesitation. I think you wished you could just run away because you looked at me with broken eyes and it made me feel worse because I felt nothing but agony of seeing you like that. You told me you couldn’t hug me that night, you didn’t touch me or stood near me, you couldn’t even look at me and I felt like I was disgusting, like something was wrong with me, it was painful, but I understood, obviously. Four months after this we saw each other again. You gave a sad smile, you took some steps back, but then you came near and hugged me. You hugged me for whole 13 minutes and we didn’t say a thing, when you pulled apart, you looked at me and told me I looked good, that you missed me, but that you didn’t know how to deal with the whole “us” thing, that you couldn’t be my friend like before, that you couldn’t know about my life, about who I was with, what I was doing, you just wanted to know if I was ok and happy once in awhile. I understood again. Of course, and you had sincere eyes. You made so fucking happy when I was with you, you made me feel like the hate I felt over myself was going to pass someday, that I would be ok, that life would be ok even with some bad days and I know I made you happy too and I feel sorry that we (I) fucked everything we had up, but look, I’m glad I had the amazing chance to feel your feelings, your lips, your body and your soul. I’m sorry we had to break our hearts in pieces so we could move on, so we could have some peace again while looking at each other in the streets. I know you feel glad about everything too, I can see it in your eyes when you come to hug me and tell how much you miss me and that you’re glad I’m doing fine, you’re glad I’m studying, eating, going out with my friends and I know you feel sad when you read somewhere or when someone tell you that I’m having some bad days… You tell me that you wish you could do something on my bad days, but you know that we’re poison to each other. I know we could only hurt each other. We would hurt us until hate overcome the good thing we felt. I must say that sometimes, when I see you and you smile, I feel this needy thing, you know? Like I can feel your lips on mine like a ghost and need to kiss you again to feel if anything changed. I doubt. You’re the same person and I’m glad you still shine so bright! I learned amazing things with you and I’m happy I was part of your life, I don’t care if we lasted long or not, I know how it was, what it was. I just want to thank you for everything. Thank you.
With love, L.
Some parts of the awkward letter I wrote you to say everything I’ve been keeping for years.
Growing up, he never really understood crushes. Sure, Francis never failed to explain them in great detail, but it didn’t really fit for him; he just liked everybody. He’d much rather grow tomatoes and learn about swords and take care of his turtles than date someone
After too many unhappy relationships that he put himself into because he felt he had to, he finally finds the definition of aromantic and nearly sobs in joy. He wears the label on his sleeve with pride and proves to any ignorant idiot that being aro doesn’t mean being heartless
He gets more comfortable with lavishing his friends with affection and attention because he doesn’t have to use it on anyone else; he even has a QPR with his two best friends because he still feels sensual and sexual attractions
It’s not until he meets Feliciano’s big brother that it all goes to shit
He’s overwhelmed and bewildered; everything he feels for Lovino matches what his friends said romantic attraction was, and he doesn’t know what to do
He accepts that he’s got a “gray-” in front of his orientation and finally lands himself in the happiest romantic relationship he’s ever been in
And even though he loves Lovino with everything he has, it never changes the fact that he’s still aro and will identify as it for as long as he lives