And on Friday it felt like saying goodbye. It was just an argument and yet I couldn�t stop crying. You probably thought I'd lost it. And you held me but I didn't feel safe like before. I left and took my bag with me and mentally looked around to see if I'd left anything. Over the weekend I saw friends and spent time alone, drank wine while reading my book sitting outside a caf�, went dancing. You went to another city and I didn't even know you'd gone until the late afternoon. And all weekend I felt single already and knew that I'd be fine. I sat on the hill in the park, in the spring sunshine and watched the sun go down, watching the people, the children, the lovers. And I felt that single feeling settling in again. You were clearly avoiding me, texting without really saying anything. We talked on the phone later about our weekends, talking without really listening. Nervous and resigned about the inevitable. We talked over the same old ground. I know I'm annoying in arguments, I know it sounds like I'm trying to catch you out. I'm sorry. You said that I should let the little things go, see the bigger picture. Stop picking arguments. But then I asked you what the bigger picture was. And you realised that there wasn't one. And so how can I let the little things go when they're all we have. You said what I already knew, said it a few times, not meaning to hurt me, meaning to explain and I asked you to stop saying it. I've still, to this day, never actually said it out loud to you. You know that I do. I know that you don't. I never said the words because saying it and hearing the silence afterwards would be too much. But not saying it is too much as well. Keeping it in is too much. And too little. We've been together a year to the week and I feel like we don't really know each other. I've felt it for months and never said it. But it's not enough anymore. And so Friday was goodbye, without the goodbye.

I saw the back of your head this morning. Glimpsed your face this afternoon. I feel nothing and everything. I know it's the right thing. I know I'll be fine. I know that you're not right for me. That we're not right for each other. I know that every argument we ever had was just me wanting you and pushing you away at the same time.

Your mum wrote me an email to say that she knows men in your family are difficult. It's not a case of being difficult though is it. You can't make someone love you and all that. I've told my friends, my family, even your mum, that I love you. But never told you. Out of fear and pride and already knowing what the outcome would be.
I want to tell you. I want to look you in the eye and tell you. Would it hurt more than this? Probably.

I want you to want me
I need you to need me
I'd love you to love me.

But you don't.