Ħawwadni, ħa nifhmek

All I know is this: since I’ve met you, I haven’t had any desire to be intimate with anyone else. I don’t know how many drinks or dates I’ve rejected since. This has never happened. I analyse every word you say. I think about you. I wait for your messages. Now, I just have a heartache. I don't know what to do. 

The worst part? I wanted to get to know you. And, maybe, some sad part of me still does. It's strange. This is not primal anymore. I still think about that night when you, naked, randomly started singing in my bed. I saw something that night; I felt something. Even if you’re annoying; if you talk in circles. Even if you have this incredibly chaotic tendency to hide behind words. 

I'm not being honest with myself. You said the spark was missing. But, frankly, I think that you’re resisting something. You’re living rent-free in my head. You didn’t mean to take it further? You got caught up in the chemistry. Now, I'm just sitting in another airport, wondering why you haven't messaged me in a week. My visit to Esch was a mistake. Something snapped inside me that night when we were playing board games; I felt that something again. 

But now, I'm convinced you don't care. And I can't shake this feeling of being used. I can't shake this feeling that you're entertaining the idea of a friendship to soothe me into not feeling used. Maybe, I'm overthinking this. Do you know what I want? For whatever that was to happen again. One last time, before I leave that country. This wasn’t ideal. Far from ideal. You hate temporary. But I hate labels. And I believe that paths cross for a reason. 

You're greedy. But so is human nature. You don’t want comfortable. But nothing about this is comfortable. I need to get you out of my head. And you, you need to get out of yours. My premonition tells me that no one is going to get hurt more than they already are if the chemistry keeps going. My mistake was that I let you in when I was vulnerable; and, maybe, the vulnerability was evident. It's been a while since I wrote about someone. And it's been a while since someone permanently affected my brain chemistry. 

You, and your damn abstract feelings. Feelings. Chemistry. Compatibility. Isn't it all just words?Why does the universe throw these people — like, you — in my path? I don’t understand what’s going on. 

To me, it seems, that someone hurt you. Someone hurt me, too. You’re resisting. Your wall is up. Life’s too short to be stuck; to be hurt. You won't survive temporary, you said. If you read this, just know that I've been simmering in this hurt for weeks. And if you decide to cut me off permanently, I don't think I would survive it.