Being associated with someone.

It’s very often that people associate me with one person; my ex. (Not to be mentioned by name) I think know a lot of people think we ended on bad terms. We didn’t. It was a mutual mature decision. I feel we were at different points in our lives, and have grown apart romantically. What we had, I will never deny, was very special to me. I went through a lot while we were together and he was there for me. I actually feel that because so much has happened between us, I would never be able to fully move on, stop loving him or forget him. The whole duration of the relationship is a big confusion. We were on and off for about four years. Never off for really long. A lot of people say it was a messed up relationship but I like the way it was, we had our own space, we didn’t have to spend every waking second breathing down each others neck and we had our own friends. Even our dates were ideal for me. Home, on the sofa, food, movies. It didn’t require us to leave the house and he knew at the time I had a lot of social anxiety and leaving the house was the worst possible thing we could do. I liked his parents, even though they weren’t all that fond of me. My mom hated him, but she hates everyone. And my dad was a huge fan. My dad really did love him. I don’t mind being associated with him, but sometimes it does get a little frustrating, even before we split up. We are two individuals. We might have been a couple, but that’s it, a couple, consisting of two separate people. We had different interests and hobbies and we actually didn’t have a lot in common and that’s what made it work for us. People would always tease us because we didn’t have anything in common except for the fact that we liked to eat. In all honesty, I’m the type of girl that would hate being married, and I know I was young, but I could really see it happening with this guy. We did talk about it and decided together that it’s too soon for this conversation and we dropped it, but I never forgot. I think for me he was just enough. I could only handle a small dosage of smothering. And he understood that. It’s funny because now, a year later, I’m starting to understand him, because he would never say anything. I would always get mad at him because he had such a pokerface and I could never figure out what he’s thinking or feeling. And trust me, he wouldn’t bring it up either. I’ve only seen him cry twice, and he’s seen me cry multiple times, I’m one of those people who can’t hold it in. But I felt comfortable with him. I mean, he actually sat there holding a glass of water for me when I was sick and throwing up. He let me drool on his arm because I fell asleep and he didn’t want to wake me. He didn’t get mad when I woke him up to fart in his presence for the first time. We had some ups and downs but what relationship wouldn’t? I’m not going to deny that I’m over him. I’m not going to deny that we don’t talk. I still text him sometimes when I’m angry about the fact that we let it slip away. I hope to one day understand and accept that he has moved on to a new chapter in life. We both hurt each other during the relationship but whenever he was hurt, he would always punch a wall. It was the most annoying thing ever because I was always worried so I would rush over to his house, only to find him completely fine having a bowl of cereal. He wasn’t the type to really rush over, he was more logical and would just call me. Most people were really curious to what had been going on between us that we were so on and off, and the answer is simple, I have hormones and I hate them. Right now we’re “friends” though who are we kidding, we’re going down different paths and we are slowly drifting away. I’m happy it’s at least happening this way, slowly, so I can try to accept it. I don’t know how he feels about me or the situation, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t bother himself with these kind of things. That’s the way he’s always been, but I’m just a little more emotional, that’s all.

Yours truly, Kamla.


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