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Worldwide Ace » Four Drafts

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Four Drafts

15 July, 2014 (08:05) | Women




Breakfast the other day was pleasant, and I appreciate that you wanted to meet, but I feel like it was a wasted opportunity to actually talk. When you said you still wanted to get together, I assumed you had things you wanted to say. I had hoped you wanted to explain how you’ve been feeling and why things happened how they did from your side. Instead, when I asked you why we were there, you put the effort back on me, asking me to talk, asking what I wanted. I understand you were tired and had difficulty figuring out what to say—you admitted as much—but I left on Sunday with an even worse sense of closure.

And therein lies the rub. 

In the past two months the only things we’ve done together are eat, sleep and fuck. And while they’re wonderful things and I’ve enjoyed all of them, we’ve ceased talking on anything but the most superficial level save for our phone conversation. We haven’t shared activities or a project since Cinco de Mayo festivities. At every turn, I’ve been the one initiating things, from dinners, to happy hours, to tonight’s lovely evening in the park.

Only once during that span did you try to make plans with me: when you called and talked about doing dinner the night before my birthday and brunch the following day. You followed this up with more than a week of not clarifying those plans, including two evenings where you spent the night and we still didn’t talk about it. I didn’t hear about those plans again until the afternoon of the 3rd, when you did so by telling me you were too busy for dinner.

It’s that which makes me feel unwanted and secondary: the lack of effort to make room for me in your life and the seeming lack of appreciation for the fact that I was trying to include you in mine. I know you never took the things I did for you for granted; I would’ve done them even if you had. I don’t care that you said no or declined my invitations. I care that you…


Too harsh.


There are three things I need for us to continue our acquaintance.

First, I need to apologize. I lied to you. Twice. I lied to you when I agreed to do brunch on my birthday. I had no intention of doing brunch with you. I was just buying time, hoping to find the right moment to have an actual conversation with you. The right time never really came. I’m not sure we’re capable of having an actual conversation anymore. I hope that we can prove me wrong on that account. I also lied to you when I told you I was ok the other day. I’m not. At the time, I didn’t think there was anything you could do to help, but now I know better. There is something you can do to help.

And that brings us to the second thing. I need you to talk to me about you. When I asked why we were there, I had hoped it would give you the chance to open up. You’re beautiful and talented and kind and wonderful and a shitty communicator. You claimed tiredness, an inability to formulate words. I’m fine with that, but it means that I feel you still owe me answers. I’ve told you what I want, why this wasn’t working for me. There’s plenty I haven’t said. I have words for days if need be. But you’ve said nothing. Nothing but things I already knew. And I have nothing but questions left.

Why did things go the way they did? Why did you stop talking to me? Why did you disappear? Why… Why… Why…


Too cold and too needy. I don’t even know how it can be both at once?

What the fuck was the third thing again?



I never thought putting things into words would be so hard for me, but this isn’t the first time I feel you’ve left me speechless. I’ve never felt the need to preface my words with warnings that they may not be adequate, but I’m starting to feel like it may be necessary in this case.

This year has been a struggle for me in many ways, with you being the brightest spot and one of the few things keeping me going. I’m not sure I expressed that or shared it with you; I never wanted to saddle you with any of the baggage with which I was dealing. Early on, I didn’t feel right leaning on you emotionally when we barely knew each other. Later, your mere presence, the incredible strength and independence you so often exude, was enough to make my troubles seem inconsequential and easily overcome. When you were with me, nothing was unattainable; nothing was too difficult or too much. And it seems funny, because when you seemed to be struggling, I couldn’t help but want to support you in any way I could, to make you feel the same way you make me feel.

I said at brunch the other day that I still want you in my life, and that’s true. You are an amazing and intelligent woman; you’re extremely talented and far more clever than you often seem to think you are. I’m still in love with you, though I’m sure that will fade. I’m still lost when I stare into your eyes, calmed when you’re around, inspired by your determination and courage, and warmed by the sound of your voice. I hope those things never fade.

I want you to know that I love you and I’ve loved almost every moment I’ve spent with you. I have a hope that down the line our paths converge once more. I also feel this isn’t likely unless a few things change. I know I’m not wired to deal with the lack of certainty and communication.

For all the things I want, be they possible or mere hopeful fantasy, there’s really only two things I need from you: honest communication and at least a little bit of effort.

If, at any point, be it days or months or years, you tell me you want or need me around, I will do my best to be there in whatever capacity I can be…

Son of a…

Too complicated. Too clingy.

When did being honest become so hard?


I love you.

I’m not ok.

I need your help.

Please show me what I mean to you. Show me you still want me in your life. Help me understand what things will be from here.

Without that, without you, I’m lost.


Just no.

Too blunt.

Maybe I shouldn’t even bother. Maybe I’m not writing this for her anymore.

Maybe just one more try.


Maybe not…




  • Brenna

    This cut right to the bone, Ben.

  • Ben

    I hoping that’s a good thing, so thank you.

  • Brenna

    Oh, indeed. Reading this just made my stomach turn in knots, is all.