First off.... I cried ten separate times (give or take one or two). And I was talking to Lucy about my being so miserable and I was out in the country. I was texting Sam all day too.
While being out in the middle of nowhere with your Nana while not getting any radio reception for anything but some scary Christian station that was preaching hellfire and brimstone (which was turned off) is rather boring, it's also a good time to think.
The conclusion I came to: I fucked up. The whole time we were driving I was thinking about Sam. My mind was replaying driving in the car with him, the way he'd kiss my forehead at red lights and the look on his face when he was driving, and me, him, Nuri, and Joe jamming to Bohemian Rhapsody on the way back from Taco Bell.... I thought about the look of total concentration he'd get when working on a 3D project and how when we were watching a movie he'd already seen he'd watch my face more than he'd watch the movie and laugh about how I got sUUper into movies. Or about how when we watched Sherlock Holmes he offered up his hands so I didn't have to watch the piggies get cut in half.
And I missed him. And I curled up in the backseat and cried. And then I texted him. And then... I was talking to Lucy and I told her how I was feeling, and she doesn't like me and Sam... Honestly, she doesn't. She thinks I can do better. But she encouraged me to do what I wanted and what I thought was best. And so... I asked Sam if I could call him when I could get some privacy and I'd facebook messaged him earlier in the day about going to see Toy Story 3. So I called and I said "Okay... I'm gonna ramble for a little while, and I need you to listen, because it's not going to make sense until I'm done." And I told him how I left because I do this thing where I get scared and I leave before they can hurt me and I make things that are really little and don't bother me a huge deal or I just make things up in general. And I told him how I missed him, and how much I'd been crying and how whenever I heard/said/thought his name or about him I would lose the ability to breathe for a minute and my chest would get tight and I'd feel like throwing up. I told him everything. EVERYTHING. And he said... "Well, I got your message about Toy Story, we could go from thee and see what happens?" And I danced in my seat. I really did. I was so happy. I was laughing and smiling and I hadn't done something like that in almost a week. I couldn't even speak for a minute I was so happy.
I swear to GOD I am NOT going to do this to him EVER again. No. He's too good and too important and too nice and too wonderful for that. Lordie. I need to remind myself of that everyday. It doesn't just matter how I feel... it matters, but how he feels matters too. And next time I feel afraid, I... I need to talk to him instead of running away. I NEED to. Because I can't hurt him, or myself, like that ever again and even think I'm going to be able to be forgiven. I won't be like my dad. I won't do that.
No comments:
Post a Comment