I realised that I was under a lot of illusions when I thought I knew you well, when I thought I knew you at all.
Sure, I know the face that you pull when I wake you up, but I don’t know what keeps you up at night, I don’t know what you wanted to be when you were a kid, where your favourite spot for hide and seek was, what your most cringey memory is or even how you take your tea.
Perhaps it was my mistake to throw myself so wholeheartedly into everything with you, to trust you enough to let you in past my walls. Oh, but how could I resist those sparkly blue eyes of yours, staring deeply into mine from across the table.
At the time, you just made so much sense to me, not caring about the walls you had up (higher than the great wall of china) thinking that if I was patient enough, maybe you’d make a little gap between those walls so that I, too could slip through and join you on the other side.
In hindsight, thinking that I knew you well meant I probably should have seen this coming, but I didn’t and you broke me a little and I didn’t notice you were pulling away at all until those blue eyes weren’t even meeting mine across the table anymore.
I thought it was noble to continue loving you, I thought that if I gave you time you could see the mistake that you’d made, that you would come around and since you stuck around I was convinced you’d do so. Now I just feel ridiculous looking for signs that you’ve changed your mind, I feel stupid for thinking I understood you.
I’ve been doing some thinking and I’ve realised that I just don’t know you at all.