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Entry #143

Clear out the Inbox

3/28/13 by NeverHundred

Specifically on my phone.

If I'm known for anything on this site... and rightfully, it might be that I'm an unrequited love addict. That every woman I've ever been interested in has been unable to return my feelings, or that I've been unable to express them.

All that changed, at least for the strangest few weeks of my life. Someone for whatever reason figured that they loved me. Well, it didn't last long, my neuroticism got the better of me. And it mixed with her baggage and we had some mutual instability. I doubted her her expressed love, she doubted my sanity and we parted ways. Who broke up with who is messy, each actually claimed it was the other but it was probably a mutual decision at the time.

What do I have left from the relationship? Not much, I have a curry stain on my canvas bag from when we went out to on Valentine's Day. We had Pakistani, and I don't know how I didn't bring my bag into the restaurant so some of the left overs must have spilled while we were kissing before I went back into my dorm. I just looked at the bag and the stain has faded away. I wasn't happy with it when I discovered it and now I miss it. Because that night was the height of the relationship. It was all down hill after that but it was everything I ever hoped a relationship would be.

The other thing I have is chopsticks, we were planning on going out for sushi at some point. Yeah, exotic and ethnic foods was clearly a shared interest. But those weren't the only plans we had thought up, hiking for the summer was something I was looking forward to. It wasn't meant to be though... she wouldn't of had time for it I guess. That was what she told me about our relationship. That her schedule was too busy. I told her I felt she was pulling away, that she didn't love me anymore.

Maybe I'm too clingy, needy... maybe I'm too insecure. Maybe I just needed to keep my mouth shut and be patient. She was worth it. The problem I had was I couldn't convince her I was worth it. No matter what I could say, I couldn't lie and tell her I was alright. I couldn't keep things bottled up. I couldn't tell her it was all going to be okay, because I had doubts. I couldn't see any way out of it, any way that was fair for her... I wonder though, because it seemed like she didn't want to be with me anymore. She said she loved me but she kept her distance. There was a hesitant manner about approaching me. She seemed tense. I'd never hurt her, I'd never been violent toward her... but her ex had. Maybe my emotional insecurity, my anxiety, my paranoia was all too familiar to her. I may have seemed erratic and unstable.

I could be reading too much into that, but I could just sense she wanted to get away from me. And it's not like I could stop her from leaving me. I know what unrequited love is... it's not love at all, it's an illusion. There's no sense in pursuing it. Now it's gone.

I hate feeling like a creepy fucker I still have a few of the text messages. I can't let it go... not yet. I'll never see her again, I don't know what I'd do if I saw her again. Most likely I'd be extremely awkward. I might have a panic attack. It would be painful... I might even try to flee from such a situation. A stalker I am not, for me most love interests are to be avoided. I always feel like that's how they'd have preferred it. So I make no attempt at reaching out to them, let alone seeking them out.

But here I have the messages. I don't look at them often and I only found them because I had to clean out my inbox. But they're a testament that at some point someone for whatever reason believed that they loved me. For a brief period of time I was actually lauded. If I deleted these messages I would lose that, I would systematically remove those memories, for although they make me feel very sad. They show that I could ruin something so great, something that was unbelievable. It was like it was too easy, like everything fit perfectly... except I had to fuck it up, and run her away. On the other hand, as short as it was it was real, I did for that sliver of time make her happy. I wish I could share them, but I obviously can't. It's not like there are any sexual messages, but the ones I'd share would be the one's where she expressed how I made her feel.

It's proof that I made someone feel special, that I made someone feel loved... excited and happy. But I can't, they are private messages and I'm not going to bother asking permission. I'm never contacting her again anyway, so it's impossible. If I did she'd likely not allow it.

But I will keep them, because without them... I will regress back into the belief that I am unlovable. Given how it ended... perhaps I am.


Comments

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If we put our creative juices together, I'm sure we can break America and the UK.

Psychologically.


We have anal gas, they have annul gas.

4/2/13 NeverHundred responds:

I'm on to you and your fancy wordstuff.


nietzlawenietzlawe

3/30/13

Women that revel in your unravelment. Don't let a woman bring you down, unless it's to go down on her, in which case, take a snorkle.

4/1/13 NeverHundred responds:

Snork!
I know what this is, women are just angry because they can't fart. They can't physically fart, they'll never be able to fart. And they're jealous of us MANLY FARTING MEN! That's why they break our hearts, because they can not fart.


nietzlawenietzlawe

3/30/13

Also, I liked this blog, as I discovered more about you as a person. 'The Man Behind the Mask,' well not an iron mask obviously, you are not Eustache Dauger.

Or are you? As that would be the purpose of an iron mask, to mask your identity!

3/30/13 NeverHundred responds:

Oh, I wrote a blog about how mentally unstable I am and that a woman can easily decimate me. I've never done that before. I'm clearly unravelling.


nietzlawenietzlawe

3/30/13

Neverlands, Amsterdayummm. Red Light District. Naked women stood in windows, like a dysfunctional Charles Dickens era sweet shop gone terribly......

Right!


nietzlawenietzlawe

3/28/13

I can already see the headline now.

The Unlovable Rogue.

3/29/13 NeverHundred responds:

Neverwondered.