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I think I'll probably follow the same kind of style for the previous journal entry "To the one whom I loved..." and take this like an opportunity to write all my feelings and my soul into words so I can finally move on from them.

To the one who gave me anxiety. . . and honestly still does.
I write this to you, the words I cannot speak to you. Whether to keep them from hurting you or because you've left and refused to talk, I kept these words to myself and now I pour them out.

You were...such an interesting enigma to me. When I met you, I wasn't fully ready. I was still recovering from depression and the break up with a good friend whom I haven't talked with since. And part of why we met like so was because of that. You caught me in a weird mood, honestly and I think you knew that. You attributed part of that to us starting to talk, but I think it was also part of you. You willingly and openly spoke things that you thought, felt and had to say. Maybe because it was simply someone online, you opened and shared a lot of things which led to us talking much more and caring for each other. Most of it was me listening to you though. You and your problems, past traumas and hurts.

We also were a little interested in each other. I remember a lot of things, you know. You wished I had been in your high school when you were in it, I wished that too. I wished to be there for you, to support you and hold your hand through the dark times, you did too. It was hard to be there always, you know? There were things to do in real life that might have impeded in times you needed to rant or needed advice. I really tried to be there for you whenever you needed.

I had to leave for a bit though. You simply reminded me too much of my friend. There were so many similarities, so many things I drew parallels between that it hurt. Even worse, I remember being there when those things happened to you. Your fall, your hurt and that incident. Those were times I began to really feel the anxiety.

Were you alright?
What can I do? What should I do?
What can I say to you?
Would it be good enough?

All of that, combined with my heart skipping a beat whenever you messaged....you honestly gave me anxiety. I lost my appetite many times because of how worried I was. My stomach would hurt, tie itself into knots and my heart would race. I loved you as much as I could but just how things were hurt to think about.

And when you met him I remember initially feeling skeptical. A little jealous that he could be with you. But I could see that his support helped you through those moments. So I encouraged you to continue talking with him, albeit while taking caution.
As things progressed, I felt more and more anxious of things so I had to cut them off. I really just couldn't do it anymore.

So we stopped talking.

Several months passed and you came back. We talked for a little, things were a little dry and many things had happened. We caught up slowly and I heard your side of things. You still made my heart race simply because of who you are and what you were to me.

You know, when you said you'd try to be there for me, that you felt that I gave you so much and you wanted to give back, I felt happy. But also a little doubtful. Because it's really a first that anyone would've tried to be there for me. I'm incredibly selfish, I tend to keep things to myself and they are resolved often before I confide in someone about them.

And you did try. But I could feel your priorities were elsewhere. Another friend that you were talking with, school, real life, all those things. I was never a priority the way you were for me.

When I felt heartbroken, I went to you.
I asked you how things were for you.
I asked you to talk with me.
I extended the chance to be someone who supported me.
That one time I willingly reached my hand for support.

And you turned away. You left and you haven't come back.
So I guess you'll only talk to your own convenience.
To when you want to.

So until you want to talk, until you're okay to talk again, I refuse to reach out again. Because damn straight, I don't want to talk to you in this state.