The Love That Should Never Have Been: Pt 2. You Kissed Her.

You kissed her.

But that’s not what bothers me.

In fact, I expect it, even if I had been there, I would have expected nothing less.

Yet I’m struggling; struggling because I feel like you played the situation in such a way that I wouldn’t be there. Like you didn’t want me around and intentionally maneuvered the circumstances so I would not actually be at the party. 

And then you kissed her.

 Again, I don’t mind that you kissed her. If anything it enforces the freedom we had created for each other. It confirms the agreements we’ve made, encourages the self-expression we each hold so dearly.

But it wasn’t just a kiss.

You asked for her number. Exchanged contact details so you wouldn’t lose touch. So you can keep the conversation going, can explore further what this might become.

This, in combination with feeling like you didn’t want me there to begin with, is what has pierced through my normally armored heart. I feel so exposed. So vulnerable. Like you hold all the cards and I can only sit in silence while trying to keep my heart from tearing. 

But that wouldn’t be fair. Neither to me nor to you.
It’s not fair to me because you’re not mine.
It’s not fair to you because I’m not even yours.

Yet while we’ve always said we’re not dating, not a couple and have never “officially” been together, I’ve never quite connected with someone the way I have with you. I’ve not trusted another man as deeply, never truly opened myself up to the masculine before you. Through our journey, I’ve experienced nothing but expansion, growth and massive personal development and up until now, I couldn’t think of why I had been so guarded in the past. But now I wonder if letting you in wasn’t a mistake. Have I been lying to myself the entire time about being able to handle such a deep connection without commitment? Because honestly, how would I know? Like I just said, I’ve never actually let any man in deep enough to really be able to hurt the deepest part of me. Except you.

And that’s the irony. 

The only person who from the very beginning honestly expressed it would never be— that there’s something in my being that isn’t enough— is the only person who has been so authentically vulnerable and real. The only one who has been willing to share the most inner depths of who they are, and been eager to see the depths of me. 

And so here I sit, with myself. 

Realizing that while you are the catalyst, your interest in her the trigger, this is all on me.

It’s my own lack of authentic self-expression that has put me here. My unwillingness to speak up about how I feel. That fateful day was the perfect mirror, showing me how I need to show up for me. Need to stop putting what you might think above what I feel, what I need to articulate. 

Because, again, that’s not fair. Neither to me nor to you, because we’ve promised our souls to always be completely open and vulnerable with each other. 

So while you kissed her, I’m the one who’s cheating.