Yesterday, I drove to northern Virginia, looking for answers.

Correction, I’ve been looking for answers. For days. Weeks. Ever since I started to wonder if  really had to make that decision I made three years ago. Was I influenced by my family? my friends? the culture I grew up in? I took a deep dive. Hence, “rant I will probably regret.” Let’s just say, day one was rough.

I sat across from my friend. I hadn’t seen her in years, but she was there for me anyway. What did surprise me… is that she remembered you. And how hard I fell for you that semester. She remembered everything. She didn’t look at me like I was crazy when I spilled all my doubts and fears and hurt and love all over that Starbucks table. I needed that.

Here’s the thing… I know it’s ridiculous to be thinking about this now. I know… I know I’ve lost my chance. It’s too late. I’m too late. Maybe that’s why I’ve been filled with so much regret. I don’t blame you. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. Still… I’ve needed to answer this question for myself. Could I have made a different choice?

She doesn’t tell me what to believe. Doesn’t tell me I’m crazy, or weird, or whatever. Doesn’t tell me she knows all the answers. But by the time I’m getting back in my car to drive home… I have my answer.

And it’s not what I wanted.

I wanted to be wrong. Just like I’ve always wanted to be wrong. But I don’t get to control truth. And the truth is we are like two puzzle pieces that almost match. Almost. But that almost… it will always prevent a perfect fit. And I may be willing to take that on–I might not care–but God does. And he says it’s not right.

Oddly enough though… he’s okay with me loving you. He loves you so much more than I do himself. That’s not the problem. The problem is that there’s no true commitment without him involved. No true unity or love that is going to last. And if I want my life to mirror what he wants for me… that’s not going to be it.

I hate that.

But at the end of the day… I know again that I made the only choice I could make. Do I wish it ended up differently? Yeah.

Of course I do.

You always told me not to wait for you. And here’s the thing–I don’t believe there’s only one person in the world for each of us. People are more complex than that. I believe there are other people out there for me, just like there is for you. And it’s not like I haven’t met some of those people. Heck, I had to tell a dear friend just a few days ago that I could never be with him. And that’s the second guy in the last year. I’ve met kind and attractive people who really care about me and who’d want to try a relationship… and as nice it would be to be cared about, I’m just not interested. Here’s the thing… I’m not “holding out” for you, or “playing the long game,” or whatever. I know that this is probably it for us. I know that me wanting something can’t make it happen. I get that. I know that you’re over it. Nothing I do can change that. I’m not rejecting people because I’m waiting for you. I honestly don’t want anyone else. I’m just not interested. They’re not you. I just can’t bring myself to care that much. I know that doesn’t make much sense to most people, and that’s fine–I get it, I’m weird. But I am what I am.

I know no one is perfect. I know every person has pros and cons, you included. I’m under no illusions. But at the end of the day, love is both a feeling and a choice. And feelings rise and fall. It’s the choice that matters. And every day, my heart chooses you. With all the mess. And emptiness. And knowing that this is probably it for us. Maybe one day, I’ll wake up and not want to make that choice anymore. And that would be fine.

But I think…. I think I know myself pretty darn well.

And I know better than that.