I don’t know why you thought I was leaving when I told you I had to go home. I know I said I was thinking about leaving – moving, that is. And I was, over the winter.
I know people have broken their word to you in the past. I know that you have no reason to trust me or to believe what I say any more than you have the reason to trust anyone else. I know things were a fucking mess last year when you came home then, and I know there is no guarantee that you will want me at all when you come home this time.
I never asked for a guarantee; I never even asked if you loved me back. I’m a very brave girl when it comes to getting things done and facing things, but I am a royal chicken shit when it comes to emotions. If you didn’t want me to wait, or you didn’t love me back, honestly, right then, I was just enjoying your company and I didn’t want to deal with it (and if you hadn’t asked me if I loved you point blank I wouldn’t have had the balls to say it either).
But I promised you, the same night in the parking lot, that I would wait. As far as I’m concerned, the promise I made to you right then supercedes anything I was contemplating before. I made that choice because I wanted you, I wanted to see what would happen if I waited. And if something happens, then all of this waiting will have been worth it. If nothing happens, or if you decide you don’t want me, then yes, I’ll probably leave… because at that point, there’s nothing more for me to stay for. I don’t want to live in this city if we can’t be together.
You can believe me or not as you’d like. I am a master of words, and I know how empty they can be sometimes – yours as well as mine. But for whatever it’s worth,I promise you, Botboy; I am waiting. And as long as you continue to communicate, as long as I feel there is a reason to, I will continue to wait until your return.
I miss you.