I got my hopes up. I believed. I wished. I prayed. And then it all went away. Again.
I get that I’m a bit of a drama queen but could one of these things that I want, that I deserve, that I desire, can just ONE of them come to fruition. I’m tired of learning how to let it go one more time.
I’m pissed. I’m hurt. I’m lonely and I’m disappointed.
He left stuff here. He left things for me to remember him. He did that with intent. Things to cook with that I use everyday. Christmas things. A calendar that hangs in my office. CDs that litter my car. And memories that I think about still almost every day.
I go through waves. Sometimes I’m just grateful for the experience and happy that he came back and healed as much as he did and then sometimes I’m so sad that we missed our chance. Twice. How do people live with that kind of disappointment? My great-grandmother carried a photo of her first love who died in WW1 in her bible til her death. She married another man and had 2 children with him and yet she carried that photo. How do you do 86 years of that kind of memory of someone you didn’t a chance to be with?
At my meeting tonight they were talking about letting go of your image, your vision in exchange for what God has in store for you. F God. Sorry. It’s just how I feel. He’s an asshole. He only answers certain prayers of mine and leaves me standing there hopeless and helpless the rest of the time. He’s a dick.
After seeing those slides of me as a little girl over Thanksgiving, and realizing that there was and is nothing wrong with me … a realization that for some fuckin reason I have to have over and over and over again rather than it just being something I accept about myself … that I wasn’t a monster or ugly or a weirdo or not belonging or deserving. That was how I FELT but not what the reality was.
So why didn’t he pick me then? It was obvious how my 17 year old self felt about him but I never knew what was going on for him and figured he wasn’t into it. The fact that he had a girlfriend meant little or nothing to me. I finally dropped it and honestly never thought about him again. But at the time, he was one I thought could have been a reality. Handsome, football player, popular enough, good sense of humor, decent human being, punk. And he didn’t respond to my hints or my bulldozing attempts at winning him over and letting him know I was game. But then it turns out that I was on his mind for 23 years?! Huh? And he reaches out to find me and he’s married and he has young kids but he starts it all up and tells me that he made a mistake back then. That I’m a really special person. That he wants to see me. That he misses me. He calls me beautiful …
Doesn’t happen all the time for me. I can’t let go. I miss it. I miss him.
Wouldn’t my whole life just have been so different if he would have been with me in high school. If then I would have had the confidence for the one in college that I always felt like I missed my chance with. Would I be married? Would I have kids? Would I have a partner in life and not be so goddamn alone?
I’m trying desperately to solve all of this for myself. To solve how I feel and shake it off and let it go and move on but I’m afraid and I’m sad. He never said goodbye. He won’t say goodbye. But see if I can’t either, then what …
I texted him before that Rush show and summoned the Good Lord to intervene in our paths crossing that night but no luck. He responded too quickly. I can no longer assume that I am not in his thoughts, that my number is not in his phone, but that maybe possibly he wants the same but he has kids and probably a real shrew of a wife. So then can I finally find the anger for him because he’s a coward? A coward because he won’t destroy his whole life for some girl he knew in high school who really wanted to date a football player? Ha!
So what am I supposed to do? Find other ways to entertain and distract myself? Volunteer? Take some classes? Exercise my ass off? Throw myself into my job? Make the most fun plans I can think of and try not to wonder where he is and what he’s doing tonight …
6 days til The Black Keys. Not nearly as excited to see them as Jack White yet still I know they will blow my hair right back.