I’m an idiot.
I don’t say this in a self-depricating way. I say this in a I’m-owning-up-to-my-own-emotional-fallacies kind of way. It’s not a bad thing to be an idiot. We all are some points in different ways. It’s kind of inevitable. It’s called being human.
Mr. 60% was gradually going to 65% and I freaked out.
As per usual, I went running to the ex. I don’t like calling him that — my ex. He’s my best friend. That’s what he is. But we did date and the second I realized I might actually be— not so much falling as I might be on the verge of —falling for this other guy, this kind and funny and sweet and pretty remarkable guy, I got scared.
Really scared.
I mean, let’s face it: My love life has broken the record for heartbreak and anxiety.
And I guess I figured the kind of pain that would come from running back to my ex would somehow be more tolerable because I’d already lived it.
But I got my first (and only) half hour break today between my 9am-to-8:30pm classes and work appointments/shifts and I stared out the window in the library looking out at the world and went into my thoughts and thought: I both admire and hate the fact that he’s being so understanding about me having feelings for my best friend / ex. Because, of course, my dumb ass had already left him a voice message telling him so.
But I’m so glad it didn’t hit the point that I’ve actually run back to my ex.
Because I do like Mr. 60%. And I’m optimistic that he’ll keep climbing higher than 60%. Or maybe he won’t or will or I don’t know. But it’s worth a shot at the very least. He’s definitely worth a shot. If nothing else, I believe that.
So:
Here’s to hoping it’s not too late to get him back or have him take me back, however it’s said.
To my credit though, this is the first time I’ve actively realized I was running backwards and decided not to. I’m learning, I’m growing, I’m living.
