Stinging (originally written July 2nd)

At first, it was just fun and games. The jokes we were cracking with each other were just because that's the understanding we had. Then came a question that I didn't expect. Lying to you was not an option. I have hurt you enough, but how can I tell you that I was giving away the body that was once yours? I sat there contemplating my statement, but all I can do is reassure that you wanted the answer to that question. My heart started to jump. My actions as of late did nothing but solidify the answer. I didn't want to throw salt in the wound that I had already opened, but you deserve an honest, adult answer, so I told you the things you didn't want to hear. No details. Just yes and no answers. There was no way to explain that my feelings aren't attached to no one but you, but there is no way to explain the fact that it's not called sex between me and him. Your next words were cold but filled with emotion all at once. The possibility of us ever being together again started to seriously fade. The fact that you refuse to touch me is not what I want, but there is no talking you out of that decision. I wanted to take it back. I wanted to say I was lying. I wanted to tell you that there has not been anybody underneath my clothes but you. I couldn't. I wouldn't. All I could do is let the damage get worse. The words I preached before were being explained in the span of a short conversation. The love that I have for you was not enough to repair anything. To hear you speak the words of moving on hurts as much as it did the night we ended us. Being the perfect person for you has gone out the window. The hope to one day to be yours again is slowly fading. Telling you that I am only capable of hurting you more will do nothing but just that. Every spoken syllable that escapes my head is a step closer to you  hating me. The discontinuation of our discussion said it all. The feeling that I have of all hope of you loving another has died a little inside. The knowing that I have made it hell and possibly destroyed a good man can't escape  me. I won't cry. I won't worry. I will continue to live one day at a time knowing what I want and what I need. I will accept that you will never understand, but I have started to understand the position of another. I stare at my phone waiting for the dreaded words of you wanting nothing else to do with me, but they never come. Instead, I must live with the knowledge that I have started your healing process, and I must start mine. At this moment, I still want to say "see you later" instead of goodbye, but everything is now in your hands. My optimism will never let go of you, but my pessimism is pushing you to the side. This is the beginning of something that has already ended...