Dear Eric David - An open note.
So we are at that point post-breakup where you are not speaking to me.
If you are the person I know you to be, it’s killing you too. You’re having fun with your friends, telling everyone, “I’m alright, it’s cool, I’m fine” when in all reality you’re just as sad and disappointed as I am.
Yes, I broke up with you.
Yes, I made some stupid decisions and bad choices.
Yes, I am getting some help and that is all I will say on that until you actually want to speak to me.
And yes, I miss you every single day.
You are, arguably, the biggest pain in my ass to ever enter my life. Your bios on your social networking sites are correct: you are incredibly dramatic and a lot of things are about you. You have even admitted, publicly, via your Tumblr, you did not treat me how I should have been treated because you never thought things like our current situation could happen; I broke up with you because I thought you couldn’t give me anything more substantial than what we had. However, I’m finding myself to be very wrong. See, you always poke fun at me for everything: Facebook posts, Instagram pictures, joking about doing drag. And you also are incredibly insecure about a plethora of topics involving me, especially when it comes to me having a social life.
But at the end of the day…I take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, and I realize that I love you. There, I said it, those three little words I’m supposed to stop saying but have actually been screaming in the back of my head since we stopped talking. I love you. I need you to understand that I am no where near perfect. I make a lot of mistakes, some bigger than others. I fuck up. I piss you off as much as you piss me off at times.
But I love you.
I love you more than I thought I could love another individual. I love when I can put my arm around you. I love that even though you’re taller than me, you like being the little spoon. I wish I could snuggle again with you for a night; New Years was perfect. I love you so much it hurts me. I love you so much it also scares me and scares you and we are both scared. I’m scared to lose you. I hate that I feel like I scared you or put you in a compromising position.
I just miss you so much. Boston is far. FAR. And I’m trying to deal with it. I had a moment of weakness, but I need you to talk to me. I want to remind you of the following:
No matter where we wind up or what happens, I will love you. You mean everything to me; you are the ying to my yang, my “berets,” my dork, my best kiss, and what I consider to be my “first time.” I care about you more than most people and I might be crazy for that, but it’s how I feel. I cannot fight it. I cannot fight what feels right and instinctive and free. You make me feel free.
I know everything is right in the world when I can just lay with you and watch the Monster Ball.
I keep saying it, but I love you. I love you so much. And I know you love me too. Yes, we have work to do. Yes, I have some things to tell you. Yes, we will probably have arguments in the future, but I will love you. I love you regardless.
I hope you say you love me too. I want us to work. I made a mistake and I don’t want to keep paying for it. I want you back in my life and I miss you each and every single day. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and enjoy the time I have with you when you’re in Delaware and when I can visit Boston, rather than be miserable at the thought of you not here. Please. I know we can do this and, as a man, I love you more than you will ever know. I need you. That’s a lot to admit for me, but it’s true.
This note may piss you off, but I really just want to talk to you. I want to love you. I hope you love me too.
And I want the world to know this. I want the world to know that I still love you and want to be with you and I don’t want to quit on this. I don’t care if one person reblogs this or 23482049 do; I want you to know this.