I had messaged him to ask a very different question. One that, if I’m honest, I didn’t think it would go much of anywhere. Sometimes (okay, a lot) I messaged him something silly or unimportant just to see if he’d message me back. So I asked him this question.

And for a bit I thought this is nice. That we can still be friends and talk in this way. I had been unsure if we could be friends before this and in the back of my head I did wonder if maybe I’d hold onto scraps of friendship with the hope that there could be a return to a sexual relationship.

The original question flowed into a different topic. One in which we discussed our time on the place where we met. And we touched on what he wants from it. And in the end I said to him:

This conversation is painful for me. Because I don’t think I’ve featured on your list of what you want. But I also know that whenever you do work out what you do want that I hope you find it.

His response was to say it was kind of me to say. But he didn’t disagree with me. With the part about me feeling like I’ve never been what he wanted. And it tore my little heart into shreds.

It’s helped though. He isn’t trying to dissuade me of these feelings so I need to just accept that and move on. It hurts but I can’t change any of it. Only my response to what he is saying and to what he isn’t. And he didn’t disagree with me. I’m not, nor possibly ever have been, what he wants.

That night I cried myself to sleep again. And I’ve struggled since then to sleep at night. But I’ll get there. One night at a time.