it's been a month since

first - i'm extremely fortunate to have friends by my side and i'm grateful for this every day. whenever i'm feeling under the weather, on the verge of falling apart, half-sobbing and slobbering on my arm, there's a 4 out of 5 chance that someone would text or call out of the blue.

some of these come with good news and complaints (which i'm totally alright with, because it takes my mind off myself for a while), and others are simple conversational check-ins. some call just to ask how i am (irregardless of my fluctuating relationship status) or looking just to find someone to talk to. or someone sees something from somewhere and approaches me about it when i thought it'd go unnoticed.

i'm really thankful for all of these. i'm blessed to have such people in my life, even when i've been focusing more on my losses this early quarter of the year. 

but likewise - with the friend variety, i didn't think or foresee struggling with listening to their problems. or being a neutral/supportive friend, because of the state i'm in.

i'm now constantly thinking i'm an unfit conversation partner whenever romantic relationships come into question. 

i'm not upset to be on the receiving end of such concerns. it still makes me glad that people can put their trust on me. i just worry about the quality of the things i say. 

over the past weeks, since the day i've called mine off, i've heard varieties of disagreements, down to word-for-word fights. it's one thing when i hear about people who are facing issues that are very similar to mine - because i realize i slip into this default mode where i feel the need to fight their battles and assume that every guy is a loathsome fucktard for feeling this specific range of feelings i always presumed mine to have had.

but, when the tables are turned, and i'm dealt with perspectives that are on the other end of that wall; when i find myself in a position where i'm on the receiving end of my initial feelings - those are really different.

i realized that those are the ones that are slowly biting at me as each day passes.

so i just wanted to address something small, because i don't know if it's appropriate that i did this in person yet. i'm not ready to see nor talk to him yet.

i'm sorry.

you were right when you told me that i couldn't manage my feelings of righteousness. that i had needs to win most arguments and was unwilling to let up, even in the name of a peace offering. i could go on about the reasons why i did them, or why i felt that they were justified. that i was struggling between my understandings of "pushover", "compromise", "assertive", "overbearing" because i couldn't get over what had happened between us for all the months we struggled. our case was so unique that it was impossible for anyone to relate, impossible for me to try and mould us into a couple that could be accepted by the general public, by my friends, family, and yours. i felt that i was doing it alone, because you said you didn't care who knew and you were fine if no one did. you didn't care who judged, or if the people in your life liked me.

but those mattered to me. i couldn't give up on the hope that my friends and family would come to do more than accept you. 

and for that i had to be happy. i wanted something to be happy about, something i could be proud about. to show them and myself that it wasn't a complete failure and that my efforts were going somewhere positive. that for the first time i was finally sticking to my guns about something despite what everyone said - and i wanted it to be successful. 

whenever you came back, it felt like i had been waiting. i thought i could finally witness your "aha" moment where you told yourself that you knew you were going overboard. that you could do more than just say that you weren't the same guy from 1-2 months ago. that you knew what you wanted, that you would prioritise me, treat me properly. i latched my hope to every word, and with that i gave you the leeway. i gave you space to make small mistakes. i gave you chances to rectify and learn. to change what you said you wanted to change. 

so i'm sorry if i had gone overboard when i villainized you for not trying hard enough. for bringing up your past mistakes like a detailed resume every time a related blunder happened. i'm sorry i chose agitation over peace, to the point where i picked and bit down at the details. i'm sorry that i was quick to express disappointment. all of those, i realize, are the wrong steps to take when we're trying to walk ourselves out of a sandstorm. 

i wanted to drive us back to the first few months of our union, where we were still impressionable, still easy to mould. where you and i would give and give and give without hesitation, fear or regret. if we had handled our issues differently,  i think the turnout could've been something else. 

i had my parts to play in the downfall of our relationship, and i try my damnest to ignore it every day.

and yet, having acknowledged this is the scariest thing i can do to myself right now. 

still trying to grasp the idea where i take this relationship's lessons and am somehow expected to apply this to my relationship with the next mystery guy. prior, i had more or less lived with the thought that i can move on because i'm the party that suffered the severe damages. that i was the victim. that if i ever realized that i made mistakes, meant that i wasn't completely done and that there was still space for trying, for changing, improving. that i could still have that dream of family/friends being as fond of you as i had been.

and i've tried that. i've tried that for a few months - close to a year. 

but now, i simply cannot imagine. i can't imagine trying again. nothing can go back to what it was. slowly coming to terms that the only thing i can do is take these lessons with me so that the next guy will be an even luckier son of a bitch. 

until then, being observant and attentive in listening to my friends' stories is the only thing i can do to learn and prepare.