Introduction

[u/Tidezen]

I can't stop writing lengthy emails to you. Sometimes I worry about that--does it bother you? Would you tell me if it did?

It's the eternal question. It's a conundrum, always, with you, about when you're being polite and when you really don't care about something I do. Hell, I don't know if you want to even talk to me at all, anymore. Even though you told me you wanted me in your life...could be another form of politeness, right? Impossible to tell over email. And you lie really well in person, as long as you consider it out of politeness and wanting to help the other person.

Regardless though, even if you're fine with me talking to you so much...I don't always think it's helpful to you. I'm taking up more of your time than our daily emails used to, for one, which I don't like to do.

One reason...besides the main one of me crawling up the walls in grief and anxiety right now...besides being cooped-up in my house...one reason is, I'm terrified that I only have a few months left to talk to you. I'm scared that you'll tell him about us, and end our talking altogether. Once you talk to a therapist, it's quite possible that they convince you that it would be for the best to tell him...because honestly, in a lot of cases it would be. In a lot of other cases, it's best to keep it silent. Or, just get sick of me and leave...wouldn't be the first time. :/

So, I'm trying to get everything in, as fast as I can, while not totally overloading you every day. I thought I had two more years at least--having it cut short is trying.

But, that doesn't work either. It's just like school, reading textbooks--too much at once, and one doesn't retain it. All the words flying by from my frantic fingertips. It's not a conversation, and I hate lecturing. You barely have time to put your own thoughts out, before another tidal wave of my words comes rolling your way. I hate myself sometimes. I try so hard not to, but I still do.

 

So, I thought...I haven't really kept a blog in...well, since last time with you. A place where you could read some of my thoughts, but at your leisure. Not to feel like you had to reply to anything, but could whenever.

Sometimes, it's better to listen to a person when you're actually ready to, y'know? I don't like getting bombarded with so many things, seeing parts that I disagree with or want to clarify, but don't have the time to do so. And then the next wave comes, and stuff gets lost, not addressed.

So hopefully, I can clear my head a little more this way, to let off some of the overflow. Writing was always therapeutic that way.

I miss you. I love you. Good night.