Life Changes Part Two

When he said 'this is the last message I'll ever send' I felt my heart crawl up into my throat. I didn't want it to be the end. I didn't understand why he was being like this, what I did so wrong. Was my caring the issue? Did he resent me? Was it some sort of transphobic/homophobic entanglement?  My head swims at everything that's gone on. I shouldn't think about any of this. I know that I won't ever get full answers and the entire thing will drive me crazy.
That was a little over a week ago. I laid in complete despair, not wanting to do anything but lay in bed. It was more than him just throwing me away like I was nothing, it was a kick-off a major depressive episode. I felt it coming on about two weeks before the blow-up; I should have known better than to push myself. I was slipping back into the crying, the thoughts of self-harming and my self-esteem was lower than the usual point of low. Memories of him and I together flashed through my head, leaving me feeling worse about everything that transpired. The depression turned to blind rage. The bile rising up through my stomach whenever I had a thought of him. The same heinous rage that's driven me to destruction each time in the past. I didn't think this would happen with him; I thought he was different that we'd have an amazing friendship-for the first few months that was true. 

I didn't expect to hear from him ever again. I slipped into my old routine of coming home and sitting alone easier than I thought I would. With occasional texts from Puffin, Goober and The Flash to keep me company, I tried to focus on other things. I didn't want the depression to start consuming me once again. It causes me to make mistakes. My concentration is blown, my thoughts are a constant mess and the only thing I can focus on is cutting myself. Then it happened. 1.42am. A text from him. I thought at first it was my head messing with me. As if I wanted to hear from him so my brain was playing tricks on me. After all, I hadn't been sleeping all that well and that kind of thing is known to happen to me. I read the short text over again. I replied thinking that would be the end of things. It wasn't. I met up with his roommate since she and I were going somewhere together and she handed me a small bag telling me that it was a present from him. I sent him a thank you text, letting him know that I got it. He told me I was welcome. Once again, I thought that was gonna be the end of it. It wasn't.

We texted almost the entire day, laughing about our favourite Arrowverse characters, talking about the event I was at, making perverse jokes. It was like I'd Barry Allen'd and had run so fast I accidentally went back in time. He wasn't mean once. There was no mention of my failures of faults. I wasn't anxious to see he had texted me. 

I thought that he was texting me to keep tabs on what she was doing, but really, in reality, he was testing the waters once again, but not in the same way he had before. He was wanting to see if I'd be accepting of him into my life. He wanted to see if I was willing to be friends again. I'm a forgiving person. I can be cold-hearted and frozen after I've been hurt enough. I'd been hurt plenty by his words and actions, giving him chance after chance to show me that he really was my friend, that I was something more than a source of amusement. Something about this time felt different. It felt like he was deeply sorry after the week of silence. It seemed to hit him that I really did care, that I had been there. The day following the event, he asked me if I wanted him to pick up the collector edition Funkos that were being released that day because I was at work. He's not been like this in the longest time. I said sure and wired him the money for them plus tax. Despite his anger and hurtfulness to me, he's never stolen from me nor do I ever think he will. I gave him a chance and he rose to the occasion since I wasn't sure if I could order them online. We texted throughout the day while I was at work. But there was something bothering me the entire time. Why did he want back in my life? He told me that he didn't expect to speak to me again, so I asked him why. He didn't give me a straight answer, but I assume it's because to some degree he missed me. Missed me as a person, not the things I was doing for him. We spent some time together before I collected my Funkos and headed home. 

The dynamic had changed. It's not like I expected it not to. All the warmth that I felt for him, all the pure concern wasn't there. I wasn't afraid of upsetting him. I wasn't afraid that he'd tell me that we were not mates anymore, that he never wanted to see me again. It didn't matter. If he could walk away like that before, he could do it again. The closeness that I once felt, once really wanted wasn't there anymore. If he wanted to behave like he did before, I would have gotten up and left. 

I'm willing to give him another chance because he actually apologised and asked me to give him another chance. I know he's not an apology guy, so when he does it really means something. We can be friends again, but not to the extent we were. I've forgiven, but I won't forget. The hurt I went through is something that I can't do again. Even if I could do it again, I don't want to. I'll be there to chill, do a few things with, but the offers, the constant help, the me trying to care for him is over. I don't care in the same way that I did after all that transpired. Can one blame me? I've come to the conclusion that I'm okay with loneliness. I shouldn't be afraid of it. I should fear the intimacy of any sort that I once craved. I'm resorting back to who I was before. Everything in me is void. It's not all his fault. It was mine for being pathetic and weak. For being childish and deluded enough to think that I would have a friendship that is something out of films and novels.