It all began as what should’ve been a one night stand, except you actually bothered to take me out to brunch the next morning and text me soon afterwards. From then on, it became regular hang outs, wonderful sex, and constant updates on each other’s lives. I quickly fell in love because that is what I do best.





A huge part of me believed that you wouldn’t feel the same way. That’s impossible! No guys ever feel the same way, and if they do, they stop at one point. But I dared to hope that you might change that.





Of course, I was wrong.





As hurt as I was, we continued whatever this was. I convinced myself that I could handle this casual relationship despite not having reciprocated feelings. The more we saw each other, the more I fell in love. I loved discovering your little quirks. I loved hearing you talk about a business’ financial prospects and your dreams for the future. I loved waking up and seeing the sunlight touch your skin beautifully and your dreamy blue eyes squint open while you lazily pulled me towards your chest. I loved how you left a trail of kisses down my back as you whispered sweet compliments against my flushed skin. I loved being in your arms late at night, talking about every little thing in this world and how safe I felt in your company.





I was stupid to think you would allow this to go on. One day you told me that we needed to set boundaries for each other to avoid my getting hurt. You didn’t let me touch you as much. You said we needed to limit the sleepovers. You said this was for my own good so that I don’t get hurt. When you wouldn’t let me cuddle with you after dinner, despite having held each other for hours in the past, the dynamics changed and you held all the power in your hands.





So I am ending this non-relationship now. It’s silly to think of ending something that never began. Even if you didn't think anything of this, I quickly grew attached to you. But it’s too tiring to constantly check my actions in my place, to have to withhold my affection so that you don’t feel uncomfortable with me. I wanted to be able to kiss you when I wanted to. I wanted to know about your day. I wanted to see you when I wanted to, not only when you say we can.





As much as I wish I could blame this on you, you aren’t a monster. You aren’t this asshole seeking to hurt my feelings and manipulate me. You’re a human being who feels all sorts of emotions like I do. I tend to victimize myself sometimes, but at the end of the day, I must look out for myself. I can’t control everything in my life, but the parts that I do have a say in, I will make better. I’m not happy with the way you treat me and I am not willing to be hurt for the sake of sex and companionship.



There's nothing shameful about wanting to be in a relationship. I sometimes find that desiring commitment is equated with desperation or weakness. I know that I tried to convince myself that I'm just looking for something casual, that I don't need a man, that I'm completely content on my own while at the same time, yearning for the touch and intimacy of another person. Perhaps I tried to trick myself into believing that if I never establish a committed relationship in the first place, I can't be disappointed or hurt. Nothing was farther from the truth and I have the unfortunate heartaches to prove so. Even so, I shouldn't feel weak for craving love. I'm only human after all. There's nothing shameful about wanting to be in a relationship. I sometimes find that desiring commitment is equated with desperation or weakness. I know that I tried to convince myself that I'm just looking for something casual, that I don't need a man, that I'm completely content on my own while at the same time, yearning for the touch and intimacy of another person. Perhaps I tried to trick myself into believing that if I never establish a committed relationship in the first place, I can't be disappointed or hurt. Nothing was farther from the truth and I have the unfortunate heartaches to prove so. Even so, I shouldn't feel weak for craving love. I'm only human after all.





Yet somewhere along the way of broken hearts and disappointment after disappointment, I began to internalize that I deserve nothing more than what was offered to me. I was convinced that I wasn’t worthy of love. Now I want to stop being so mean to myself. My love life does not define who I am, nor does it dictate how I should be treated.



