Did it hurt you to do that?

I remember playfully slapping you, you moved your face into the light movements of my hands, smiling. In that moment, I felt like the playful, free kid I was never allowed to be.

I didn’t even have the words for what you made me feel. I didn’t know it was even possible.

I thought there was something so raw so bare, so primal. but really it was just safety.

Looking back on us I feel like a sad kid, wondering “why doesn’t he want to be my friend anymore?” Following you around while you just want to be alone.

It reminds me of us giggling and whispering like kids at a sleepover up past their bed time. You still looked sad, but I was able to get smiles out of you.

Why are you being so mean to me?

It sounds so childlike. It makes me wonder if I have some kind of arrested development, that the only man I ever clicked with is the one who made me feel like a child.

But not the child I was growing up. The child who I was never allowed to be. Silly. Impulsive. Spontaneous. Having needs. Who I was before I was taught I wasn’t good.

And you liked her. You smiled and laughed and seemed amazed by her.

You woke up the part of me I thought was dead. the part I forgot even existed, and then you left her.

Now she’s crying and begging you to play with her again.

I wonder if you ever felt responsible for me. I know you cared about me in a quiet way. I can still feel it. It gives me chills and warmth at the same time.

It’s the only thing that brings me comfort these days.

I wonder when it clicked for you that we are the same. If it ever did.

“Please stop” “Forever?”

Everything I sent after our time together was so childlike it makes me sick. Did you know that’s who you were hurting? And did you not care? Did it hurt you to do that?

The confusion on my face. The scanning of your face, trying to determine if you were serious or not. Did that not hurt you?