I’m sorry.

I’m not going to explain the whole situation, but I met a boy named Jeremy last year and I had a very tumultuous little relationship with him that has subsequently impacted all of my relationships after him. He has me blocked on Facebook and I’ve wanted for so long to call him or to write him a message telling him how sorry I am, because I have a new boyfriend now, a great boyfriend named Nate who has treated me so well and who I think may have everything I’ve been looking for in a man. But because I never really dealt with the feeling surrounding Jeremy, I’ve imposed all of my doubts, fears, insecurities, and anger at myself onto Nate, and onto every guy I’ve dated since Jeremy.

We met online, and we got along perfectly, I thought we were perfect for one another, we seemed to have a perfect cosmic connection and I started to have feelings for him and he started to have them for me really fast. And then I saw what he looked like. I’m just going to lay it out there: he was fat. Yeah, that’s it. He was fat. And I was not attracted to him. And it killed me inside, because it was keeping me from opening myself up to him fully, and embracing and loving him for who he was. I knew it was shallow, I knew it was stupid, and I knew it made me a bad person not to be with him because he was fat. I tried to fight myself, I tried to push through it, but when I met him we were all over each other and I was just disgusted by it. I felt so guilty that I was disgusted by him physically, and I didn’t want to be but I was. I was torn apart inside in a way I have never, ever been. We fooled around the first time we saw each other but I’ve done that with plenty of guys and it hasn’t caused a problem, it’s only if someone is fat that I get all weird. And I hate myself for it. It’s a problem that I’m acknowledging.

On the one hand, if the physical attraction isn’t there, it’s okay to admit that. On the other hand, what kind of a person does it make me if I throw away a great romance on something as shallow as physical appearance, or dick size, or sexual chemistry? Are those things really important? Do they determine love? Do they stop love from happening? These were the things that swirled around in my mind day and night, and TORE ME APART. And they tore Jeremy apart too, because I was honest with him, and it hurt him so bad to know that he wasn’t good enough for me, because the one thing he couldn’t change was the one thing that I hated about him.

I couldn’t acknowledge it. I refused to. I only felt relief when I acknowledged it in secret that I thought he was gross and fat. I’m using those harsh words because that’s what I had to say to myself, I had to make it as harsh I could to get the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Once I had the relief I’d try to move on, but it came back, the uneasiness and the feeling that it was wrong. One morning I nearly threw up, and I have NEVER thrown up from stress before, I’ll pass out before I’ll throw up. It was killing me inside, I even asked my mother for advice, and that should let you know the severity of it.

So I gave up. I went off with Jeremy for a few days, and I broke down in tears and finally said I couldn’t do it, and I felt the most intense relief. It was all over. I missed Jeremy already. Now I see that maybe what I did was a mistake, I don’t mean that I want Jeremy now, but it feels good to admit that I DID care about him, I DID have intense feelings for him, maybe I even loved him, and I let his physical appearance get in the way of that. And I’m sorry, and I loved him. I have a new boyfriend now and this stuff is hard for me to admit to myself, but the thing is, after Jeremy, I had the same problem with everyone I dated.

A guy named Joseph who I got along great with (albeit we clashed a lot and argued but when we got along we got along really well) tried to give me his heart and I felt the same, the uneasiness, and I eventually couldn’t bear it and pushed him away. I wanted to fight it but I couldn’t win. A guy named Harrison tried to befriend me and I pushed him away too. A guy named Shawn gave me his first kiss, and I was the first guy he’d ever had any sexual contact with, and I pushed him away too. And then I met Nate, and I tried to do the same thing. Nate told me he wanted me to do whatever made me happy, but I gave him another chance. No, I gave MYSELF another chance, because he never did anything wrong. Neither did Jeremy, or Joseph, or Harrison, or Shawn.

And my whole relationship with Nate, I’ve been plagued with guilt and shame, the same way I was with Jeremy, and I think I know now that it’s because I’ve never forgiven myself for what I did to Jeremy, how I dropped him from my life selfishly, how I cut off love from myself and I hurt him and nearly drove him to kill himself with grief because I wasn’t the first person to hurt and reject him. And now I’m ready to admit that I love you Jeremy, and I’m sorry.

And now that I’ve admitted it, I can move on, and I can be a good boyfriend to Nate, and I can treat him with the love and respect he deserves. I love you all.


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