Last night, you came to my home for the first time. That alone was a very special moment, for me, and for my family. Having you walk through that door meant more than I probably showed in the moment.
We tried our hand at board games, they were a little too boring, if we're being honest, but we tried to make the most of it. The night had a lot of potential. And then, somewhere along the way, I let it slip through my hands.
The moment we stepped into my room, I stopped reading you. You were somewhere new, surrounded by people you didn't know, in a space that wasn't yours. You weren't entirely comfortable, and you even reached out to tell me so. But I wasn't listening the way I should have been. I was drinking, caught in my own head, thinking about everything except the one thing that mattered: how you were feeling.
When you messaged me, I still pushed for the hills. I crossed a line. I disregarded what you said, and that's on me, fully. A lot of the decisions I made after we entered that room could have been so much better. I owe you more than that.
What I'm Taking With Me
When I drink, my judgement goes, and with it my ability to actually be present with you. That's not okay. I need to keep it in check, especially on nights that matter.
You gave me signals. You even sent a message. I missed both. I want to get better at actually listening, not just waiting to respond, but truly understanding what you need in the moment.
You were new to all of it, my home, my friends, the whole setting. I should have let you breathe instead of dragging the night forward at my pace. Next time, we move at yours.
What we have is ours. I need to stop sharing our things with friends, not because I'm ashamed, but because some things are too precious to be public. Us is one of them.
"Still learning. Always yours." ❤️