Brayden and I celebrated two months of one uphill roller coaster in early November. Just like the month before, I wrote him a sweet paragraph on how thankful I was to have in my life. I told him what a great boyfriend he'd been and how excited I was to continue being with him. He wrote back a few sentences saying thank you. To some people, that would have been enough. Perfect, even.

I'm not 'some people'.

His reluctance to return the favor and tell me what a great girlfriend I'd been irked the shit out of me. It left me feeling like he didn't care nor appreciate me as much as I did him. You might think me dramatic for jumping to such conclusions because of one exchange, and so I'll add that it wasn't just that time that he failed to show he cared. Many times I'd try to brighten our relationship with little flirt texts, or sweet goodnight kisses. He never made that effort to do any of that first. I guess then my frustration was a build of him always simply returning my affection, but never instigating it.

Looking back now, I know that if I was half as smart as I proudly claim to be, I would've sat down with him. Told him exactly how I felt on the situation and given him a chance to do better.

In my immaturity, I did no such thing.

Instead I sat comfortably in a doomed relationship. Riding the highs with Brayden and the lows alone. All while thinking that it was healthy. That not bothering him with stupid issues was better for us in the end. That I could figure it out alone. This lack of open communication, dear reader, was my biggest downfall.

3.20.20
WC: 297