I think I deserve some kind of World Record. Some sort of title. I mean nobody else could have just done what I’ve done. I’ve just gotten over the honeymoon phase… in two weeks.
Me and B had always talked. We had always had great conversation. Conversations that made me feel like walking on clouds. They were equal, they were interesting, they were never ending, just paused while we slept or worked. When we hung out it was the same, sparks flying everywhere, feelings strong enough to make me blush. And when we kissed for the first time… oh my. Butterflies galore.
A week later I finally asked him out. It took all my courage to do. I was nervous, which was shocking, since I don’t get nervous around boys I like. I’m not that girl. I’m never that girl.
But for B I was that girl. I was the girl that jumped to get my phone in case it was a text from him. I was the girl that blushed when he paid me a compliment. I was the girl that thought about him non-stop, talked about him non-stop. I was the girl holding his hand as we walked in public, the girl that has his arms around her.
I was that girl. For a while. But it just isn’t who I am.
And now the novelty of it, the honeymoon period, it’s over. And B still likes me, loves me in fact, and I don’t.
I just don’t.
I have realised that I’m not a relationship person. No matter how much I try, no matter how much I think that I’m finally ready to be somebody’s girlfriend, no matter how convinced I am that this time I will be that girl, I just don’t do relationships.
But now me and B are involved, we are in a relationship, I am his girlfriend. And there is no easy way to tell him that my feelings have changed. There is no way to stop B getting hurt. And it’s all my fault. Because I didn’t know myself. Or I did and just hoped that I had changed.
But I haven’t changed. I am exactly the same. I am going hurt B because of who I am.
And I hate myself for it.