I think I have started and backspaced this post about 15 times now. I also just realized that I used “backspaced” as a verb and am wondering if it actually could be? Technically I guess.

I keep writing things so that they seem politically and morally correct which is a pain because I normally don’t care about those things. People are too sensitive. I care though, because I don’t want this to hurt you which in itself makes no sense.

I want so badly to be stay mad at you. It would be wonderful. I feel like I should be entitled to the feelings of anger. I feel like I have every right to want you to hurt as much as you hurt me.

But I can’t. I can’t stay mad at you. I’ve tried. Over and over again. I get to the same place every time…wishing that it was someone else that knew me so well and that had the ability to change my day as much as you do but secretly being glad that it’s you.

I did the whole “cleaning of Facebook friends” and you were still in the blocked list. I thought about taking you off of it but a part of me couldn’t do it because I don’t know that I’d ever be able to put you back on it if you did something like that again. I cleaned my messages, and couldn’t erase the ones from you.

I kept asking myself (and you too eventually) if we would ever be the same, and I’ve answered myself. Nope, we won’t be the same. I think somehow we’ve grown stronger from everything. I can’t explain why, but I always wondered what it would feel like to be told the things you admitted to me and still care enough about someone to see what happens and at least want them as a friend just so I could have them in my life.

I hate that you know me so well. I hate that you knew this was exactly what I was needing…to get all this off my chest and just type until I said what I needed to say. I hate that you can tell my day’s been bad just by me sending a one word text message that carried on conversation like normal. I hate all of those things, because I love them at the same time.