If you read these words, you’ll be confused. After all, wasn’t I only saying the other day that all I could think to do right now was wait for you? Give you as much time as you felt you needed? Six months, or however long?
I’m sorry. I’ve changed my mind, and I’m happy about it.
This doesn’t in any way mean that, for the moment, I don’t love you and am not regretting that our loving, charming, happy time together came to an end with you needing some time alone. Hard as it was to understand, I respected it. And those first few days were awful. Not feeling like we’d properly discussed anything, and I must have done something heinous and not realised it. Sitting there talking through my feelings, trying to understand or see a way around it and you, mumbling impressions and concerns that just didn’t seem to make sense. Things have gotten better between us since that day, but that has been forced from my side. The most you see is a slightly-divorced smile and the most you hear is a half-hearted joke. Inside, I’m crying, throwing stuff at walls and crying some more.
The closest I could get was saying that I probably needed some Alone Time too, to escape the conditioning of ' five years’ worth of toxic relationship that came before you. But that said, I still really thought we had a chance, and so, I would give you as much time as you needed but in essence, I’d be waiting for you.
