Dear Cortney,
Your gift just got here. I'm not sure if I should try and give it to you or just leave you be.
I shaved my head the other day. It actually doesn't look as bad as I thought it would. I wish so desperately I could show you and see your reaction. It would be so fun.
I almost called you twice today. I just wanted to talk to you.
I really struggle with the concept of love in general. I love my parents, but I don't actively feel love for them in general. I don't for anyone. I know I love you, but if someone asked me if I loved you I would instinctively say of course, but I wouldn't feel it in that moment.
Love for me are those little moments. And in those moments I radiate love for you. I feel it with all my heart. It's overwhelming. When you're half asleep on my couch and I'm playing games and I jump up and pitter patter on you. Or when we're talking and I randomly fist bump you. It's in those moments that I truly love you. Is that normal? I don't think it is. Shouldn't I feel love towards you, towards my family at any given moment? It's particularly because I don't that I so rarely say it. I only say it when I feel it. And when I feel it, it's overwhelming. If I don't say it with words, I say it with those small actions. Those tiny one on one moments that only you and I share and know what they mean. That to me is love. I don't know any other kind.
One of the core issues I had with our relationship is that I failed to mature with it. We were together for so long that in many ways I still feel like I acted like a child. I had so many of my own issues that I wasn't ever able to fix that they bled into the relationship.
I'm keeping it together a bit more than I thought I would because in some backwards way I feel like I'm doing this for us, for you. I truly meant it when I talked about how I wasn't the person I wanted to be for you anymore. How I wasn't who I wanted to be. How I wanted to figure out myself and my goals and my life. To find health and peace. And I'm working towards that, because if I don't then why did I leave? I need to keep moving. I need to so it means something. So what I'm putting us both through means something.
Every time I have the urge to reach out to you I make myself get up and do something productive. Anything that brings me towards those goals. Take the dog for a walk, run on the treadmill, write these journal entries, anything. I tell myself "Call her when you've earned it and you haven't yet, so get up and start going." I like to think that down the road once we've both grown as individuals we can find each other again. The thought of that alone keeps me going, even if I know I'm probably lying to myself.
I want to experience life and everything it has to offer, but I didn't want to give you up either. The boys and I joked about going to a maid café in Japan and how cool it would be just to experience it. I guess I can go now. You would probably let me even if we were still together, but I would have such guilt that it would ruin it. This idea of experiencing life but wanting you at the same time is why I brought up the idea of commenting on other people, watching stuff together, and all that I think. I've lived in the same place my entire life with the same girlfriend. Shouldn't I go see what the world is like? Shouldn't I go see what other people are like? What does life have to offer me? Won't I regret it if I never try?
But what happens when I find another person. A real person like you. Will I still have those same questions about life? Will I be sure in that relationship? Or will this constant questioning haunt me forever? And if I find her and that voice is still there, do I move onto the next and hope it doesn't follow? What if it never stops following me? What if I left you in search of something I didn't know I already had?