Because you don't want me to message you

Dear J,

Please delete this if you want. I just needed to write this, to try and make sense of things.
I hope you’re doing well.

I'm sorry for disrespecting your request for no contact, I’m just at a point where I feel like I’m losing control over a lot of things in my life.

I lost my job. Well, technically I still have the job, but I'm on leave until I can get a clearance from my doctor. I don't know what I'm doing. Some days are good, and some days are horrible. I’ve been struggling and I just don’t know where to turn. I’m reaching out because it feels like talking to other people isn't helping, and I don’t know how to make sense of this on my own.

I’ve been thinking about everything between us a lot, and I just can’t stop wondering where things went wrong. I guess part of me feels like the end was just a big misunderstanding, and maybe it’s something that could be fixed if we just communicated.

I hate this. Maybe if I write it out, I can stop going over it in my head. Maybe I can stop wondering how this all fell apart. I wish I could talk to you about things, but for whatever reason, I guess that’s never going to happen.

I don’t know why you keep saying that I’m contacting you looking for sex. I never wanted JUST sex from you. I used to think that was all you wanted from me, but I can’t really believe that anymore. I wonder if we both fell back into the dynamic of casual sex because that’s what our previous relationship was based on. On my side, I accepted it, even though I was hoping for something more (relationship or friendship I was always open to either). I’m still unsure if I misunderstood your intentions during that time or more recently. Maybe I did it to you too, and we just suck at communicating with each other.

When you contacted me, I was so excited to see where things would go, but also scared because I was pretty messed up back when we used to talk, and I didn’t think I could handle it if things went badly. But you convinced me it would be different, and I figured it’s been more than 15 years, so hopefully, we have both changed a lot in that time. We chatted and shared pictures. You shared your interest in cooking, and I liked seeing the meals you created. I hoped I would get a chance to try some or even cook something together when I got back.

The weekend I came back was great to see you. I remember waiting in the pickup line, my heart racing. I was so excited but also nervous to see you again. It was great seeing you and catching up. I loved hearing your stories. I was a bit shy and unsure about how to bring up my own, but you seemed to enjoy talking, and I thought it would get easier as we got to know each other better. I invited you back to my hotel room because I wanted to keep talking with you and spend more time with you. It wasn’t necessarily a sexual thing. I was just enjoying your company and didn’t want it to end.

Then on Sunday, when you introduced me to your friends, meeting new people is terrifying to me. I was already nervous and unsure about what we were, and I tried hard to make a good impression. I probably messed up. I know you were disappointed at my reactions at the car show. I don’t know enough about cars to know how to react, and I’m just not great at casual conversation, so I’m not sure if I came across as awkward or disinterested. I guess I was also worried about the way you had rejected me the night before and wondering if we were ever going to get back to that easy conversation we had during dinner the previous night.

Back at yours, you told me about your car accident. I knew parts of it, but as you said, I’d never really heard the details before. I’m glad you told me that story, but I was disappointed that you stopped and didn’t tell me much about what happened when you woke up. I wanted to ask why you never reached out or replied to my messages back then or maybe tell you about my experiences during that time (I don’t know if that’s selfish). I never got to talk about how your accident affected me because I felt like you didn’t want anyone at work to know we talked outside work. And while I had thought maybe you liked me and we could change the nature of our relationship, we hadn’t had a chance to have those discussions, and I didn’t want to make any assumptions. I didn’t know how to reach out, and some of the things I heard during that time made me question if you would even want me to.

I went back up north with this on my mind, and then your messages on my way back got confusing. While I was driving back (admittedly I wanted to get back as fast as I could to see you, despite not actually having made solid plans), I was confused. While I was trying to laugh about how my car was making the trip frustrating and taking longer than I would like, you seemed genuinely angry and argumentative about my choice of car. I wasn’t sure if you were going to cut things off and never speak to me again because you didn’t like the car I drove. 

I guess things got even worse from when I got back. I kept feeling rejected that you didn't want to see me, that when you did reach out it was too late at night to actually have a proper conversation or even a meal. Whether it was going out for a steak or you inviting me for one of those homecooked meals you kept teasing me with while I was up north, the invitation I was hoping for (and even asking for) never came, just confusing late-night invites only to arrive and have you kick me out.

When we had breakfast that morning at the cafe by the water, we were talking about travel. I wanted to tell you about my first big trip to Nepal. I was excited to share it with you, but when you brought up your brother, it felt like my story was being overshadowed. It reminded me of a conversation we had way back in 2004 when I was probably more than a little obsessed with the snow and talking about my first trip overseas, going snowboarding in Queenstown. It made me wonder if, because you didn’t share that interest, you didn’t want to hear about my trip. So I ended up shutting down instead of continuing to share my story. I didn’t say anything then, but maybe if I had, it would have helped us understand each other and communicate better.

I wish you would be clear and help me understand. I get that now you don't want anything to do with me but please help me understand where things went wrong.

Even if we don’t stay in touch, I wish things didn’t have to feel so final. It’s hard knowing that so many of our old colleagues can stay connected as facebook friends even if they never actually chat, and I wish that were possible for us too.

M