Aren’t you tired of these games? It’s 4AM, and I’m sitting here, waiting for one of us to admit—something. Because god, if I’m not tired. To hell with mixed signals and guessing games. As if matters of the heart aren’t complicated enough.
I’ve been clear with my wants, it’s you I can’t read. One minute I can see our future together, and the next I can see it crumbling. I just can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry—I don’t even know why I am. Maybe it’s because I thought there was some potential in us. If only I had enough balls to risk it, if only you’d been a little clearer. Of maybe you were, and like a fool that read too much into meaningless actions, I ignored the signs that you weren’t interested. Maybe that’s why you never went after me. But if you were interested and were just waiting for me to say something, then I really am sorry for my own incompetence to speak up. I couldn’t read you—and that’s not your fault—I was afraid I’d scare you away, ruin our friendship with talks of ardor, ruin the memories of the nights we spent out ‘til dawn talking about every little nothing that came to mind.
I’m digressing, aren’t I? That seems to be happening a lot lately—whenever you’re the subject. Again, I’m sorry. What I truly wanted to say was that I’m tired. I don’t want to interpret the meaning behind your actions—if they had any at all. I don’t want to play anymore. I’m going to back off. Wholly. Entirely. Completely. I’ll step away. I’ll change my tone into something purely platonic, and I’m sorry if I bothered you with my feelings. I didn’t mean to. I give up. Call me a coward. It’s okay. I am.
I’ll miss this. I’ll miss the thought of us.
But I’m just so tired right now. I don’t want to let life pass me by because I’m too busy hung up over you. I’m going to move forward—now. After this letter. If you want to take that step with me, then that’s entirely up to you. I’d welcome you. Always. Just know that I’m going ahead regardless of your decision.
Still, a part of me hopes you’ll follow. If you don’t, however, I’ll understand. It’s just another feeling to crush. And I’ll look forward to the day that these passions are nothing more than echoes, but when they are, I hope you don’t come after me wanting anything more than friendship because I never want to hurt you. I never want to break your heart the way I did mine.