For whatever reason, my heart has decided to hook itself to you. Most days I’m okay with it. You’re funny and smart and sexy as hell. You make me feel safe. You do things to my body and it all feels so good that I swear sometimes that I’m in love with you. Some days I believe that. I just wish it were easier to tell you how I’m feeling, what I need from you. To understand your reluctance to open up to me.

This is a hard one. I’ve written so often on this blog about this man. I give him chance after chance. I even documented the build of a break up with him only to roll it back and be like, nah. I don’t mean that.

He’s the biggest blind spot I think I’ve ever had. I met him at a time when I was sort of spinning out of control after things ended with my ex and I needed a steady, safe person to settle my feelings on. I’ve often wondered if I’d met him at a different time in my life would I have developed the feelings I have for him? Or was it just the circumstances?

I can’t give a definitive answer. And I don’t think it would make a difference to try to rewrite history now. The damage to my heart has already been done. Because I do have feelings for him. I often have days, like I did when I originally wrote the confession above, where I think I’m in love with him.

And I’ve thought over the last few months, hoped really, that maybe he feels a little bit the same too. With absolutely no evidence of it. Just my hopeful nature.

And tonight he confirmed that is, in fact, not the case.

My heart is a little bit bruised tonight. I hope you’ll understand if I take next week off to rest, recover, relax. Take a little time to myself. And hopefully when I come back I’ll be feeling a little bit more myself.