A letter to the aether
Dear Slimer -
I truly enjoy your company and I miss you. I hope you’re getting what you need. I wish you would let me provide some of it. You’re “genetically bad at communicating,” which is nonsense. All you had to do is send one text. “Happy New Year too!” Even better, “See you when you get back.” You could also have just come out and say you can’t see me any more and you would still be chalked up as a sweet experience instead of a torment. My uncertainty and your ignorance of the effect swirls into a cruel ulcer.
“Don’t be anxious, you don’t need to feel that way about me.” OK, then you don’t need to have episodes of depression, just talk yourself out of them. Yeah, exactly. Some things we cannot stop with the snap of a finger. Yes, it’s my anxiety to manage, but you contribute.
You drop a lot of breadcrumbs. You told me you like hanging out and you want to make me a bracelet and go on adventures and you’re not a player and you missed me and you’re not just wham bam and it’s ok that I text you and you don’t freak out easily and that you’re suuuuuper busy and you think about me every day and I believed all of it. I even believe you meant some of it. Those assurances and your blinding sexiness keep me hooked, but it’s dwarfed by thundering silence.
I don’t know how or why you went from “I won’t just disappear on you” “I would never just blow you off” and “I want to cook you my mom’s comfort food” to two weeks of silence, but my trust took a hit. Whatever’s keeping your distance, just say it, rather than “just be patient with me” and “Merry Christmas, Beautiful.” If you aren’t keeping distance, just willfully staying bad at communicating, just try.
I know you have a lot going on and I resisted making assumptions for as long as I could. I want to respect your space and issues and not be a burden or source of stress, but out here in the dark, it is too hard for me to keep throwing rocks at your window while never seeing a light. I saw a light in your eyes. I optimistically fantasized that you were as overwhelmed by the unexpected intensity of our intimacy as I was, and that you were hiding…