Running away

I’m not sure exactly when we met for the first time; I think it was a couple of years back. I know we connected properly in September last year, at an event. You were funny and bright and warm; you said I had a great face. I was head over heels for you, instantly.

We texted back and forth. There was a lot of immediate, sparky connection there. And a lot of openness, and honesty, that I wasn’t used to. I was newly out of a relationship, and truly, with hindsight - I see now that I wasn’t ready to date again. Instead of realising that at the time though... I freaked out, and ran off with another guy when the opportunity presented. Unsurprisingly, that connection didn’t last either.

I didn’t see you for a long while afterwards, apart from a brief encounter in December. I didn’t hear from you, and I understood why.

Until May (I think it was May?) when you sent me a FB message, wanting to know how I was holding up in lockdown.

I loved reconnecting with you; all the late night talking and flirting. I loved seeing you again; long walks in sun and rain, fuelled by cheap dessert wine and supermarket picnics. You made me feel light and happy and wanted.

But then, again, I was overwhelmed; gradually building intimacy with you made me feel vulnerable and frightened. I ran away, called things off, citing stress and tiredness and being too busy for a relationship.

Those things are all true - I am stressed and tired and busy. I also just really fucking miss you.

I so desperately want to reach out to you, but the risk of rejection terrifies me. I keep scrolling back through our old messages, and the desire to reopen that connection is overwhelming. I don’t know whether to run the risk, or just leave you be.