Well, I did it, I broke up with him.
It wasn't because I wanted to. It wasn't because we were bad together.
It was because he didn't know how to have a girlfriend.
He never called me.
He never texted me.
He would hardly ever come to see me.
Whenever we went to go hang out, the very few rare times, he always brought his friend along.
I couldn't take the loneliness, the sadness, the unwanted feeling.
He would never compliment me. I never felt good about myself.
I did everything I could. I explained to him how I felt. I told him everything that was wrong, I brought it to his attention more than once. It felt like he just ignored me.
Nothing really went farther than feeling like friends, to me. That's basically what we were, with the added benefit of kissing.
We had no connection whatsoever.
I hated breaking up with him.
I hated seeing him cry along with me.
We both agreed it was for the best, after he admitted he didn't think he could change those things about himself. That he didn't believe he could talk to me more, or see me more.
I wish I could understand why.
I might slightly, but I'll never really know.
I'm glad we were able to stay friends.
But I feel almost as if I lost something...and I need to find it again.
I feel slightly empty, though I'm not sad.
I'm more relieved than anything.
I just don't enjoy this unexplainable void.
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