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My boyfriend and I have been going out for a little over eight months. I was happy. He was happier. I was never sure what love meant or if I loved him or not, but when he said the three magic words a couple months in I did too. Not just because he did, I really thought I did. He is the sweetest guy when you get to know him but tonight as I looked at him from across the room while hanging out with some friends, I realized that I didn't love him. Maybe I did in certain moments when we were together. Or maybe I loved the idea of him more that him in reality. Either way he was my first boyfriend so how could I know what love was?
Why couldn't this have come to me earlier? Not eight months in, after I have met his family and hung out with them. They like me and I like them. But I don't love him. He is perfect on paper, and so am I, and yet we are so not perfect together. I just don't feel anything when I look at him now. How do I get out when I don't want to hurt him? He loves me, he really does. And that's what kills me.
I hate myself for doing this to him, but I can't stay with him.
I am no poet or master with words like some of the people that send in their stories to this site, but I thought maybe writing down the way I feel could make it more real to me.
- JL
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