The Proof is in the Pudding


“I love her and that is the beginning of everything.” I didn’t write that. F. Scott Fitzgerald did, but I agree.

I’ve been in love with this woman for some time now but it feels new. No, I didn’t spice up the relationship, nor did she, but instead the total opposite. We’re not boyfriend/girlfriend anymore. My feelings never stopped for her. I never chose to show them- express them like one might do to their girlfriend- and now that I am allowing myself to feel these emotional and private feelings I’ve always had, it’s emerging from my body in every single way possible. I just wish I had done it sooner, when the time was easier for her to understand my feelings and accept them for what they are, instead of battling within herself on how strong her feelings still are in retrospect.

I flood her ear ways with I Love You enough times now where they’ve probably lost its meaning. I say those words because in all my years, they finally make sense. They finally have a meaning and I’m trying with all my effort to make them count. I honestly doubt she’s ever been loved the way I love her and I know I’ve never loved someone else, or anyone, like I love her. But again, I say these words, I feel these words, and I’m trying to act on these words before it’s too late and these words don’t mean anything to her anymore.

She says I’m corny and i agree although I don’t know when or why I became this corny guy. I know I’m sweet when I want to be but I’ve never been called corny in my past by anyone other then her. I sometimes picture her telling her girlfriends just how corny I am and everyone getting a laugh out of it. But, little does she know, she is corny too! Maybe that she is a woman makes corniness alright, but she is just as corny as me, if not more…. and I like it.

I always have. The truth is is I’ve never showed her I like it. And the truth is, the more I’m corny to her, the more I say I love you, the more I text her and show her attention, the less she actually acknowledges me. It’s not a game; she doesn’t seem like the game type, but it’s happening and i stress myself over the act of being the one to call or message her because I’m not sure if that’s what she wants me to do or not. I’m not sure if she doesn’t want to talk to me, is waiting to hear from me, or thinks I don’t want to talk to her.

What she doesn’t understand is I want her to be a part of my daily life in each and every way. I want her to call me, even if it’s a simple 30 second hello, or I want to be able to call her and not worry about bothering her. See, for the first time in my life, I want a woman unconditionally, even if there’s nothing to talk about or be corny about, and that may be because for the first time in my life I’m unconditionally in love with another human being.

I am trying to show how much better we can be together; how much fun we can have, experiences to share, and stories to tell our friends with huge grins stretching across our faces. What we had before was a true and wonderful relationship which was covered by pounds of sand and hidden across an arid desert. After lost contact and endless searching, this relationship has resurfaced and all that was hiding the obvious is now gone. I’m just trying to lead her in the direction of its unraveling and show her its beauty.

Author: Jake Mitchell

Writing nonfictional & brutally honest experiences, stories, & events, from my life; both before, during, and following my intense destruction of myself and the people who were around me. All because I lived a life of lies, manipulation, and self-imprisonment, just a few of the many truths when you're an Active Addict. Although I'm very blunt, I tend to (or at least try to) write as humble, selfless, & full of gratitude, while sharing some of the tragedies and situations which most likely occured due to my addiction and the way I exsisted during that time of my life, as I only cared about and fiened for my next high or score. Please comment on any material I post. Although I'm quite ashamed and embarrassed for most of the actions, decisions, and outcomes, that happened during my torturous years of Active Addiction, I don't regret any of it. Now, by writing about these true stories and events, I'm hopeful another addict can relate to my pain, distress, and the Hell of using drugs. This HELL, becomes therapeutic and important for my recovery, reminding me that I am not the o my person who has ever done or thought these things. And through relating, I may be able to help another addict.

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