I don't really know what to say here, except I'm sorry. But I've already said that, and I know you don't want to hear it again. I don't need to have an hour-long conversation with you... A simple football comment will do. Anything to let me know we're still in a good place, and then I don't care how long we don't talk. PTSD is, at its core, a re-wiring of the brain. It causes common sense to seem ridiculous, and the ridiculous seem like the smart move. Most of the time now, though, I'm me. You have to know that I'm me, I'm still here. I'm still the girl you like, the woman you've been dating. It's just that, from time to time, the faulty wiring shows through. Once that happens, (ok, once that happens and then I anxiously word vomit endless apologies and reasoning that only make it worse,) I do what it takes to re-wire it back to normal. You've seen that at work. I'm just sorry I couldn't hide all the faulty wiring until it's corrected. You see, if I was smart, I would have waited to date you until I was done with therapy, and possibly even the CPA exam. Of course, then some things wouldn't have come up before you anyway, so I guess we'd still have some of these issues regardless.
But in any case, I'm not 100% logical. And my heart doesn't like the idea of not seeing you for 3-6 months while I get there. Hell, one month is three weeks too long. Because you are the man I used to dream about. The pale, freckled Irish kid in my dreams who just... got me. He was genuine, and he made me laugh, and he was perfect for me. And I think he grew up to be you. And when I see you, or your picture... I see my future. I can't explain it. I've fallen hard many times before, but this is different. I don't think I'm in love with you, because I'm not yet. But I know that my future is supposed to be you. I just hope I didn't screw it up.
You know my heart. You have seen me when I'm normal. You know why these moments happen and that they're going away. So please, don't leave, and don't give up on me. I want simple: camping, hiking, and watching football. I want a husband who isn't the most romantic, but knows how to make me feel special just by being himself. I want a house full of laughter and love. Hell, I want to roll my eyes at my husband, sitting there drinking beer while watching the games every Sunday! That's it. But you're the only man I have ever dated that fits at all into this scenario. Let alone seamlessly. It's you. And I need you to be tough and stick out this rough patch, so that you can see that I'm what you need, too. Please, just give me the time and faith that I need right now, faith that these moments will go away soon, and I will give you everything you could ever want when this is over.
God, I'm glad you'll never read this. You'd run screaming, lol. I just hope you're not doing that already. And I hope you have a wonderful week, since I don't know when I'll hear from you. Sweet dreams, bel homme.
No comments:
Post a Comment