If I could write a letter to anyone from that winter of my life:
Would you believe it? After all these years, I fell in love with him. Everyone saw it, you know how happy we were, and I got scared and I ran from it. But it followed me regardless and now I'm helpless. I'm infatuated and incapable of dropping it like a rock in a lake. I crave him, constantly. I build myself up and through no real fault of his own, I am let down repeatedly. I'm fighting for something that doesn't actually exist, a relationship with 180 miles and different lifestyles tearing it apart.
What makes me think that this battle is worth fighting for? When I was last with him, I couldn't wait to get there, and then I couldn't wait to leave. As soon as I was with him, I didn't want him to touch me. But mere hours after I left, I missed his arms and his lips.
And now I wish I was falling asleep in his arms and not by myself on a couch.
Am I fickle, is this all my fault? How do I shut it off?
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