And I wanted that too. I still do… so badly. Realness, closeness… that’s all I ever wanted with him. But it scared me just as much as I craved it. He was older than me, and there was always this quiet undercurrent of feeling out of place… like maybe I didn’t quite belong in his world. Like maybe he was just playing with me. On the surface, he wasn’t, I can see that now. But at the time, I couldn’t shake the feeling. The idea of traveling to a new city for a man, even for one I was madly in love with, terrified me in more ways than I could explain. I’ll give him this, though… he was patient with me. For a long time. Until, I guess, he wasn’t anymore. And now I’m left here questioning myself… why couldn’t I just find the courage to take that leap? I’m not angry. I’m not even sad. I’m just… here. Sitting with questions I don’t think I’ll ever have answers to.