You took my mind off the broken pieces I was holding in me; your conversation spilled in the empty room of my heart and I thought it is alright for me to walk in with the broken pieces. I was just trying to be, to exist, to find myself again. I went through my days routinely, finding peace in simplicity, grace in the people around me. I learned that love is not solely centered on one person, and is not one single feeling. Love is transitive – people, places, memories.
But then you came along. All arms and hands and shoulders and smiles. Shy at first, and patient. Listening when I needed you. And distracting me, when I didn't know that was what I needed. You didn't try to say all the right things; you didn't try to be the man I wanted. But somewhere in the mess of my working schedules, it wasn't me that changed. It was you. You wanted to be that man I needed, wanted to be that mend, that fix to my broken heart. But You can’t be those things. And I'm sorry.
I am a wounded woman. Not destroyed, still strong. But a woman whose heart is entangled with a man from her past, who still thinks about him when the night falls, who still replays those memories like a faded filmstrip and sighs into her pillow. I don’t want him. But I still fell for him. And I will continue to fall for a little while. See, this is the hardest part of falling out, you become whole again, but you still have those silvers of memory, reminding you that, yes, that was real.
I'm sorry my heart cannot accept you. This isn't a choice I made, but an unconscious feeling. I cannot accept you because my heart is still caught in the mess of someone else. I cannot accept you because I am too selfish, too determined, too content in being the girl on her own. I am not a grieving woman. I am not a woman to be pitied or consoled. I am not broken, not weak, yet just unfit to love.
I cannot accept you right now and/or in the near future. Probably I am just unfit to love. I need some time to breathe, to remember what it’s like to sit alone and be myself. To sleep across the entirely of my bed, sprawled and free. I need time to know what is it I really want. Because right now I know I may get lonely, but I don’t mind being alone because I need to be alone.