He was never mine to care about, so letting him go shouldn't be an issue. Right?
As usual, I have only myself to blame for this predicament. I knew it wouldn't turn into anything legitimate -- of that he was perfectly clear, which I appreciated and agreed to. Past Beth would have turned away that instant because of my tenancy to become attached, and as a result, hurt. But present Beth said, "You know what? F*** it. I'm going to make the most of my summer."
Present Beth was a dummy.
But still. He made me smile a little brighter, made me laugh a little harder, made me fall a little harder (as much as I hate to admit it). We started to learn things about each other, little quirks, irritations, stories behind scars. When we weren't together, we were usually texting. He became a constant in my life, someone to say good morning and goodnight to.
Maybe some people could remove themselves from that situation, flip an on-off switch. I am not one of those people. When I let people in, I inevitably begin to care. It is both a blessing and a burden.
And so now comes the hard part. The leaving, the forgetting, the letting it be what it was meant to be -- a short-lived fling with no real feelings attached. Of course I knew this part was coming. I just convinced myself to enjoy the time I had with him, didn't let myself think ahead enough to realize it would actually hurt.
Then again, living in the moment isn't ever the hard part. It's always what comes next that is difficult -- the consequences of caring, of feeling more than the other person does. That's the part that eats at you long after the not-relationship has ended, because you don't feel as if you had the right to care in the first place. They were never yours to invest feelings in.
So here we are. I've drafted and deleted the "This Is It" text multiple times, but haven't brought myself to send it because I know I only want to do so in hopes that I'll beat him to the letdown. I don't want to send it, but I don't want to be on the receiving end of it, either. So it's just there, looming in the distance.
I want to remember the good parts, to just end it before the bickering begins and I am left with that memory instead. I guess I am a person who always needs some sort of closure, even when I don't necessarily want it. And because of that, things usually end on negative terms because that tends to be what closure is. Positive closure is a rarity.
I am kicking Past Beth so violently right now. I often wonder if I will ever learn from my mistakes. I guess I shouldn't say that -- I do learn. I just wonder if I will ever learn enough that it makes a difference in my actions. After all, the definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and over and expecting different results.