HE is engaged.
Announced it on facebook. A week ago. No personal communication to me, from him. Which, I suppose, I don't really expect at this point.
He met her two months ago.
She looks like his mother, in my opinion. (I did not tell him this.)
And that's fine. Really.
I want him to be happy.
I do.
It just still bothers me that when he thought of me, it was the me from high school, and not the me from ten years ago. Not the adult me.
Because, for me? The reason I was in this, now? Was because of who he was when my life was falling apart, when my husband was leaving me.
Sure, high school is part of the story. But only as a beginning. That is not the person I couldn't get over. That is not the person I still love.
There is no point in trying to tell him this. I would only look desperate, jealous.
But it seethes; simmers under my skin.
I had hoped he would remember.
I was sure, if he did, he would love me again.
It hurts, knowing that I mean so very little to him.
So little, he didn't feel it was worth finding out if there was anything more; could be anything more.
He didn't want that.
He wanted someone else.
Not me.
and that leaves me...what? unloved? unwanted? forgotten?
Showing posts with label Just Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Just Me. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Friday, July 27, 2012
it dawned on me
It dawned on me
the other day:
perhaps
what he was hoping for
was that I'd be him.
The him that he was for me
back then.
Ah.
That, I can do.
the other day:
perhaps
what he was hoping for
was that I'd be him.
The him that he was for me
back then.
Ah.
That, I can do.
Friday, January 20, 2012
things I would say
I need time. Time to allow the things I want in a man to become abstract. Time to allow myself to look for those characteristics in someone new. Someone not you. Someone I haven't met yet. Or maybe I have, but I didn't see it, because I wanted it to be you so badly. I can't do this anymore. You've broken my heart, again, without even meaning to. It's not your fault. You didn't know I was waiting for you. How could you? For a while, I believed you could. I believed we had this connection, something other-worldly, and I believed you knew I was here, loving you, dreaming of you, waiting for the day you would come back.
But when you did come back, you didn't know. You didn't love me. You didn't even remember loving me, as an adult. You could only remember the years before, the awful, heartbreaking, all-too- short teenage romance, and who I was then. You didn't remember the woman you fell for, again, at 34. You could only see the girl I'd been at 17, so you, you became the boy you'd been, instead of the man. That girl is gone. I left her behind so long ago, so gradually, I don't even know when she disappeared. For me, that's a good thing. That girl wasn't my best self. She was alright, but, she lacked compassion, patience, the capacity to accept others as they are without judgement. The woman I was at 34 had all that. I struggle to maintain that now, at 43, but I know, I'm more the woman I was than I am the girl.
It's not your fault. I don't blame you. It can't be helped that I still look the same, sound the same. You look the same to me, too. But, I'm looking at the man you were, nine years ago, when you loved me, the woman I'd become, and not the girl I was. Nine years ago, when you were all those things I need, and more, except, you weren't available. The timing was off. Perhaps it's always been off.
I loved you then. I love you still. But you're not that man.
I want to be there for you, help you to heal after your divorce, as you did for me. But it's not working. I said too much, dreamed too long, kept seeing the man you were, nine years ago, instead of the man you are now, and I broke it. I ruined whatever connection we had, because I couldn't see who you are now, until it was too late. Too late, because you'd figured it out. You saw that I'd been waiting, that I still loved you, and you ran away.
I don't blame you. You didn't intend to break my heart again. You didn't know, until you saw me again, that I'd never gotten over you. That I hadn't even tried. I was just someone you used to know, someone you hoped still cared for you enough to be your friend and help you through a tough time. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to be that for you. I know how much you're hurting, and I know how much you need me to be there for you, to help you feel normal, lovable, worthwhile. You are all those things, though you can't see it right now. And I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for not being what you need.
But when you did come back, you didn't know. You didn't love me. You didn't even remember loving me, as an adult. You could only remember the years before, the awful, heartbreaking, all-too- short teenage romance, and who I was then. You didn't remember the woman you fell for, again, at 34. You could only see the girl I'd been at 17, so you, you became the boy you'd been, instead of the man. That girl is gone. I left her behind so long ago, so gradually, I don't even know when she disappeared. For me, that's a good thing. That girl wasn't my best self. She was alright, but, she lacked compassion, patience, the capacity to accept others as they are without judgement. The woman I was at 34 had all that. I struggle to maintain that now, at 43, but I know, I'm more the woman I was than I am the girl.
It's not your fault. I don't blame you. It can't be helped that I still look the same, sound the same. You look the same to me, too. But, I'm looking at the man you were, nine years ago, when you loved me, the woman I'd become, and not the girl I was. Nine years ago, when you were all those things I need, and more, except, you weren't available. The timing was off. Perhaps it's always been off.
I loved you then. I love you still. But you're not that man.
I want to be there for you, help you to heal after your divorce, as you did for me. But it's not working. I said too much, dreamed too long, kept seeing the man you were, nine years ago, instead of the man you are now, and I broke it. I ruined whatever connection we had, because I couldn't see who you are now, until it was too late. Too late, because you'd figured it out. You saw that I'd been waiting, that I still loved you, and you ran away.
I don't blame you. You didn't intend to break my heart again. You didn't know, until you saw me again, that I'd never gotten over you. That I hadn't even tried. I was just someone you used to know, someone you hoped still cared for you enough to be your friend and help you through a tough time. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to be that for you. I know how much you're hurting, and I know how much you need me to be there for you, to help you feel normal, lovable, worthwhile. You are all those things, though you can't see it right now. And I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for not being what you need.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
I should be happy...
I went to see him, Christmas Eve. I wasn't sure I would, I didn't tell him I was coming, and I almost didn't go. But I really wanted to see him. And I knew he'd be home, because he had all the kids for the entire weekend, and his car is too small to fit all of them. I was already halfway there, up visiting family, so, it was less daunting to drive just over an hour instead of just over two hours.
After the huge fight we'd been having earlier in the week, I kept thinking that I might have come off better, with more of a chance, if I'd been to see him at least once. If he'd had to be confronted with me, in the flesh, right there in front of him, in his own home. That was part of it. Because I know seeing me changes things. Which was, perhaps, a little unfair.
I nearly turned around, so many times. But I wanted to see him.
When I got there, I knew it was his house before I'd seen the number. I drove past, turned around, came back, and parked. I didn't know he was in the front room, and had seen me pull up. I wish I'd parked across the street instead.
I text him, "did you get your package?", because I'd mailed his present a few days before, when we were fighting, because I was sure I wasn't going to see him. We'd made up since, for the most part, but, still. I was so nervous.
A few texts later, he's figured it out, and is asking me to come in. I've never had such a hard time walking up to someones door. It was all I could do to keep walking towards the house. I just wanted to run away.
I'm so nervous, I can't even open the door. I just stand there. He has to practically pull me inside. And all the kids are there, in the front room. I almost left right then, having only been there for a minute. I couldn't think why I'd thought it would be a good idea.
I'm too nervous to sit down, to even take off my coat. I can't look at him, or the kids, or at anything but my own shoes.
He can see this, but doesn't know why. He wonders if maybe I had something important to say, if I'd driven all that way just to visit, or...? So he says, "let me show you the house," and drags me off to the kitchen. I still have my coat on, and I keep wrapping it tightly around me. Like I want to hide. Which, I think, I do.
It's an old house. Full of awkward angles and tiny rooms and added-in spaces. A tiny spiral staircase leads upstairs.
We stand and talk, for far too long, in his tiny hallway. We talk, but, I don't know what to say. I satisfy his curiosity on a certain point, and natter on about the past, the old journal entries I'd been reading the night before. We talk about everything: movies, kids, his marriage, why he's not ready to change certain things about his life just yet.
About and hour and a half in, (I know. I wasn't going to stay. We always could just talk...) I realize, I've reached my limit. I've been standing there in that hallway, talking, listening, looking at him, and all of a sudden, I realize I can't just look at him any more. I want to be all tangled up, not knowing whose legs are whose, but, in my head, we're still dressed. I just want to be that close to him, and I can't just stand there anymore, not touching him at all. I say it's time for me to go. That not touching him is more than I can take. It's too much. (Probably more than he wanted to know, but, I can't help it, I always tell him what I'm thinking.)
He nods, asks if it's okay if he gives me a hug. It's a good hug, but, somehow, I'm still unsettled.
He walks me out to the porch, says goodbye. His daughters are giggling at us from the front room, though there is nothing to giggle at. There is at least a foot of space between us.
On the way home, I talk to my friend, she asks if I'm glad I went. I think, maybe, but...I don't know. Then she makes me promise that I won't apologize to him for coming up like that, with no warning.
I pick up my boys (they went to a movie with cousins), and drive home. I still have to bring in the tree, light it, decorate. Everything is still in the attic, and it's after midnight before I'm home.
I think, after that visit, I should be walking around like Keri Russell in Waitress, right after she realizes what he meant when he said, "I wish it were Friday". But, I'm not. I'm just confused, unsettled.
Hours later, amidst the frustrations of not having enough lights, ornament hooks gone missing, and just a general lack of Christmas feeling, I realize what it is. Or, at least, what it could be.
Despite the last 10 years of my life, having felt quite happy and content with life as it is, being single, not really dating, but being okay with that, all of a sudden, almost without warning, I'm just...lonely. I don't want to be alone anymore. And it's more like that scene where he comes to see her, at home, and she's just sad, and he comes in and just holds her, for 20 minutes. And right after that, she realizes that what she really likes about him, why she can't get enough of him: they talk, and he listens, and what she says matters to him.
And that's what I miss. Have been missing, for so long. I need that closeness of conversation. I want that best friend, always there.
I used to say, after ex2 left, that the worst part about divorce was not being allowed to love someone. Not being allowed to give to someone. I still think it's true.
So, I'm sad. And I don't want to talk to him. Kind of difficult to make that point when he's not talking to me, either, but, still.
And I thought that I missed him, but, I don't. I'm sorry he's gone. I'm sorry I messed things up. I hope he comes back, when he's ready. If that ever happens. I'm sorry I couldn't be his friend. I'm sad that he is still looking at me like I'm 17 and he's running away. I'm sad that he doesn't love me. Or at least, that love isn't enough.
After the huge fight we'd been having earlier in the week, I kept thinking that I might have come off better, with more of a chance, if I'd been to see him at least once. If he'd had to be confronted with me, in the flesh, right there in front of him, in his own home. That was part of it. Because I know seeing me changes things. Which was, perhaps, a little unfair.
I nearly turned around, so many times. But I wanted to see him.
When I got there, I knew it was his house before I'd seen the number. I drove past, turned around, came back, and parked. I didn't know he was in the front room, and had seen me pull up. I wish I'd parked across the street instead.
I text him, "did you get your package?", because I'd mailed his present a few days before, when we were fighting, because I was sure I wasn't going to see him. We'd made up since, for the most part, but, still. I was so nervous.
A few texts later, he's figured it out, and is asking me to come in. I've never had such a hard time walking up to someones door. It was all I could do to keep walking towards the house. I just wanted to run away.
I'm so nervous, I can't even open the door. I just stand there. He has to practically pull me inside. And all the kids are there, in the front room. I almost left right then, having only been there for a minute. I couldn't think why I'd thought it would be a good idea.
I'm too nervous to sit down, to even take off my coat. I can't look at him, or the kids, or at anything but my own shoes.
He can see this, but doesn't know why. He wonders if maybe I had something important to say, if I'd driven all that way just to visit, or...? So he says, "let me show you the house," and drags me off to the kitchen. I still have my coat on, and I keep wrapping it tightly around me. Like I want to hide. Which, I think, I do.
It's an old house. Full of awkward angles and tiny rooms and added-in spaces. A tiny spiral staircase leads upstairs.
We stand and talk, for far too long, in his tiny hallway. We talk, but, I don't know what to say. I satisfy his curiosity on a certain point, and natter on about the past, the old journal entries I'd been reading the night before. We talk about everything: movies, kids, his marriage, why he's not ready to change certain things about his life just yet.
About and hour and a half in, (I know. I wasn't going to stay. We always could just talk...) I realize, I've reached my limit. I've been standing there in that hallway, talking, listening, looking at him, and all of a sudden, I realize I can't just look at him any more. I want to be all tangled up, not knowing whose legs are whose, but, in my head, we're still dressed. I just want to be that close to him, and I can't just stand there anymore, not touching him at all. I say it's time for me to go. That not touching him is more than I can take. It's too much. (Probably more than he wanted to know, but, I can't help it, I always tell him what I'm thinking.)
He nods, asks if it's okay if he gives me a hug. It's a good hug, but, somehow, I'm still unsettled.
He walks me out to the porch, says goodbye. His daughters are giggling at us from the front room, though there is nothing to giggle at. There is at least a foot of space between us.
On the way home, I talk to my friend, she asks if I'm glad I went. I think, maybe, but...I don't know. Then she makes me promise that I won't apologize to him for coming up like that, with no warning.
I pick up my boys (they went to a movie with cousins), and drive home. I still have to bring in the tree, light it, decorate. Everything is still in the attic, and it's after midnight before I'm home.
I think, after that visit, I should be walking around like Keri Russell in Waitress, right after she realizes what he meant when he said, "I wish it were Friday". But, I'm not. I'm just confused, unsettled.
Hours later, amidst the frustrations of not having enough lights, ornament hooks gone missing, and just a general lack of Christmas feeling, I realize what it is. Or, at least, what it could be.
Despite the last 10 years of my life, having felt quite happy and content with life as it is, being single, not really dating, but being okay with that, all of a sudden, almost without warning, I'm just...lonely. I don't want to be alone anymore. And it's more like that scene where he comes to see her, at home, and she's just sad, and he comes in and just holds her, for 20 minutes. And right after that, she realizes that what she really likes about him, why she can't get enough of him: they talk, and he listens, and what she says matters to him.
And that's what I miss. Have been missing, for so long. I need that closeness of conversation. I want that best friend, always there.
I used to say, after ex2 left, that the worst part about divorce was not being allowed to love someone. Not being allowed to give to someone. I still think it's true.
So, I'm sad. And I don't want to talk to him. Kind of difficult to make that point when he's not talking to me, either, but, still.
And I thought that I missed him, but, I don't. I'm sorry he's gone. I'm sorry I messed things up. I hope he comes back, when he's ready. If that ever happens. I'm sorry I couldn't be his friend. I'm sad that he is still looking at me like I'm 17 and he's running away. I'm sad that he doesn't love me. Or at least, that love isn't enough.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
living in the past? no thanks
To be fair, I started it.
I hunted up my old high school journals to discover, at the request of a young friend, what the exact day was when I met him. Because she (my young friend) was born that same month. So it was I that was taking a walk down memory lane and reading old entries from my past. And having a seriously good laugh at my old self. A self that I am no longer. Thank goodness.
And I discovered, much to my own horror, that I was a crappy girlfriend. Apparently, it was so not my fault that college boy was kissing me? Apparently, at some point, we broke up because another boy needed my attention? Apparently, after a month of not being able to see him, because I was grounded, I overreacted when, on the day we could finally see each other again, he announced that he wanted to start seeing other people. And he had a date that night.
Apparently, the way I reacted, in that particular situation, is what started him running. Away from me. Which is, apparently, what he is still doing. Even now.
Apparently, if I'd just given him some space, back then, like he asked, instead of hounding him, calling him, trying to figure out why he didn't love me anymore (may not have been true, but that's how I saw it), if I'd just left him alone, he figures, in a couple of weeks, he would have come back to me.
And for some reason, that's still where he is with me. He's 18, and he's running away. Again.
I'm not okay with that.
I'm not living in the past.
Yes, I daydreamed. I kept wondering what might happen in a few years, instead of focusing on what is happening right now. But the past? Not where I was. Not where I want to be.
And if that's where he is? I don't want to be there.
Besides which, who went looking for whom? Oh, that's right. I was just sitting here, minding my own business, enjoying my life, excited about work for the first time in years, happy to be me, and HE sent me a message.
Whatever.
I hunted up my old high school journals to discover, at the request of a young friend, what the exact day was when I met him. Because she (my young friend) was born that same month. So it was I that was taking a walk down memory lane and reading old entries from my past. And having a seriously good laugh at my old self. A self that I am no longer. Thank goodness.
And I discovered, much to my own horror, that I was a crappy girlfriend. Apparently, it was so not my fault that college boy was kissing me? Apparently, at some point, we broke up because another boy needed my attention? Apparently, after a month of not being able to see him, because I was grounded, I overreacted when, on the day we could finally see each other again, he announced that he wanted to start seeing other people. And he had a date that night.
Apparently, the way I reacted, in that particular situation, is what started him running. Away from me. Which is, apparently, what he is still doing. Even now.
Apparently, if I'd just given him some space, back then, like he asked, instead of hounding him, calling him, trying to figure out why he didn't love me anymore (may not have been true, but that's how I saw it), if I'd just left him alone, he figures, in a couple of weeks, he would have come back to me.
And for some reason, that's still where he is with me. He's 18, and he's running away. Again.
I'm not okay with that.
I'm not living in the past.
Yes, I daydreamed. I kept wondering what might happen in a few years, instead of focusing on what is happening right now. But the past? Not where I was. Not where I want to be.
And if that's where he is? I don't want to be there.
Besides which, who went looking for whom? Oh, that's right. I was just sitting here, minding my own business, enjoying my life, excited about work for the first time in years, happy to be me, and HE sent me a message.
Whatever.
Friday, December 23, 2011
delusional
So, I've been very selfish (like that's new) and mainly thinking of myself, and how I feel. And I have daydreamed instead of actually listening, and heard what I wanted to hear, instead of what he was really trying to say.
He really is not ready for a relationship.
He really is not in love with me. He likes me, yes, but love? No.
He really is not THAT guy, because, I told him what I need, and he isn't that. Not right now. He's not saying he couldn't be, but, he is saying, he's not going to change for me. Which is exactly right. I don't want someone that would be something else just because it's what I said I wanted/needed.
It's frustrating, because I want him to be that guy. Because, yes, I already do love him.
But, do I? Because, I haven't seen or heard from him in over 9 years, and, I don't actually know him anymore. I think I like him. Pretty sure. And looking at him, just looking at him, makes me go weak in the knees. Not to mention this unreal, otherworldly, almost magnetic attraction between us.
When we're together, neither of us can think rationally. We try. We mostly manage to keep our feet on the ground. But, it's not easy.
At the same time, we both see (yes, both) that this isn't going to work right now. May never work. He sees that more clearly than I do. But I'm starting to be in the now. I can see it, too.
If this is going to work, we're both going to need a lot of time to sort through things. To heal, to find out if we can be together. And by time, I mean, a couple of years. Which is really hard for me to think about.
He said, all those years ago, that he didn't want to be 45 before we could start our life together. My response? And I don't want to be in my 80's.
If I keep pushing him, like I have been, it could go like that. He will reach that point where he can't stand it any more, and he'll run away. Maybe for good. And I just don't know if I could stand that.
He really is not ready for a relationship.
He really is not in love with me. He likes me, yes, but love? No.
He really is not THAT guy, because, I told him what I need, and he isn't that. Not right now. He's not saying he couldn't be, but, he is saying, he's not going to change for me. Which is exactly right. I don't want someone that would be something else just because it's what I said I wanted/needed.
It's frustrating, because I want him to be that guy. Because, yes, I already do love him.
But, do I? Because, I haven't seen or heard from him in over 9 years, and, I don't actually know him anymore. I think I like him. Pretty sure. And looking at him, just looking at him, makes me go weak in the knees. Not to mention this unreal, otherworldly, almost magnetic attraction between us.
When we're together, neither of us can think rationally. We try. We mostly manage to keep our feet on the ground. But, it's not easy.
At the same time, we both see (yes, both) that this isn't going to work right now. May never work. He sees that more clearly than I do. But I'm starting to be in the now. I can see it, too.
If this is going to work, we're both going to need a lot of time to sort through things. To heal, to find out if we can be together. And by time, I mean, a couple of years. Which is really hard for me to think about.
He said, all those years ago, that he didn't want to be 45 before we could start our life together. My response? And I don't want to be in my 80's.
If I keep pushing him, like I have been, it could go like that. He will reach that point where he can't stand it any more, and he'll run away. Maybe for good. And I just don't know if I could stand that.
Monday, December 19, 2011
girl on a mission
I've decided that it's rather pathetic that the last person I kissed (an embarrassing number of years ago) was, coincidentally, the same person I was trying so hard not to kiss over Thanksgiving weekend.
I mean, really? REALLY?
It's just sad. And it's given him (the all-important him) the idea that he's awakened me from the dead, romantically speaking, which isn't exactly true. Not really.
I have dated, a bit. I did the singles activities while I was on the committee; went to everything, danced with whoever asked, flirted (tried to flirt?), and engaged in conversation when called upon.
I was not dead. I just didn't seem to get asked out. Or set up.
So, here's the deal:
I need dates. And you, my friends, are going to help me.
The 3 E's are a must (note: willing to bend on the college education bit, but only if you think he can carry on a worthwhile conversation. I love a good conversation.)
The age, maturity level, or looks of said possible date are unimportant. I just want to have a nice time, possibly some intelligent conversation. I am not looking for a boyfriend. I am not looking for a husband. I would just like to date.
Surely there is someone out there who would suit?
I mean, really? REALLY?
It's just sad. And it's given him (the all-important him) the idea that he's awakened me from the dead, romantically speaking, which isn't exactly true. Not really.
I have dated, a bit. I did the singles activities while I was on the committee; went to everything, danced with whoever asked, flirted (tried to flirt?), and engaged in conversation when called upon.
I was not dead. I just didn't seem to get asked out. Or set up.
So, here's the deal:
I need dates. And you, my friends, are going to help me.
The 3 E's are a must (note: willing to bend on the college education bit, but only if you think he can carry on a worthwhile conversation. I love a good conversation.)
The age, maturity level, or looks of said possible date are unimportant. I just want to have a nice time, possibly some intelligent conversation. I am not looking for a boyfriend. I am not looking for a husband. I would just like to date.
Surely there is someone out there who would suit?
Saturday, December 17, 2011
greeting card
When I was still in the "unknown" phase, having not yet seen him, my mind was whirling with questions. As in, all the time. Work was practically impossible. Mundane everyday tasks were impossible. I couldn't even go to the grocery store. I'd find myself wandering aimlessly down aisle after aisle, with no idea whatsoever I'd come in for, or if I'd had anything in particular that I needed.
The night before I saw him, I'd gone to get a pie crust (yes, I do know how to make my own, but suddenly, the thought of having to roll it out just seemed overwhelming to me), and, after a few minutes, having found the required item, I found myself daydreaming on the greeting card aisle. Now, you have to understand, I don't do cards. I hate the sing-song variety. I hate the ones that are trying to be all wise and comforting. I never seem to find a card that says what I really want to say. But I'm standing there, staring at them, as though I'm going to find something worthwhile. But I'm not really looking at them. I'm trying to slow my mind down, make sense of things. Get my feet back under me, or on the ground, or something. And an idea begins to form.
And I realize, that what I wish I could find, there on the greeting card aisle, is a card that simply says:
(outside)
I have no idea what kind of artwork I would want with that. Nothing too realistic, I think. Something abstract. Maybe just a solid color on the front, even.
I realize that this one, small question could have so many connotations. So many things I could be asking, so many things I could mean. And I could, at any given time, mean any one of them.
When will you be mine? (sounds a tad possessive...)
When will our life together start?
When did your life with her end?
When can I see you again?
When did you realize that you loved me?
And I still find myself wanting to ask him, every time we text, talk or email (because I still haven't seen him, since that weekend):
The night before I saw him, I'd gone to get a pie crust (yes, I do know how to make my own, but suddenly, the thought of having to roll it out just seemed overwhelming to me), and, after a few minutes, having found the required item, I found myself daydreaming on the greeting card aisle. Now, you have to understand, I don't do cards. I hate the sing-song variety. I hate the ones that are trying to be all wise and comforting. I never seem to find a card that says what I really want to say. But I'm standing there, staring at them, as though I'm going to find something worthwhile. But I'm not really looking at them. I'm trying to slow my mind down, make sense of things. Get my feet back under me, or on the ground, or something. And an idea begins to form.
And I realize, that what I wish I could find, there on the greeting card aisle, is a card that simply says:
(outside)
I have so many questions, so many things I want to ask.
But the only thing that really matters, the one question I really want an answer to:
(inside)when?
I have no idea what kind of artwork I would want with that. Nothing too realistic, I think. Something abstract. Maybe just a solid color on the front, even.
I realize that this one, small question could have so many connotations. So many things I could be asking, so many things I could mean. And I could, at any given time, mean any one of them.
When will you be mine? (sounds a tad possessive...)
When will our life together start?
When did your life with her end?
When can I see you again?
When did you realize that you loved me?
And I still find myself wanting to ask him, every time we text, talk or email (because I still haven't seen him, since that weekend):
When?
Friday, December 16, 2011
tease
Wednesday, after Fab Fibers, during which HE CALLED ME (because he missed me, and just wanted to hear my voice. I'm all a-flutter. ahem.), I had to take Twin2 out to a friends house in PG. I procrastinated leaving B&N until I had just no time, and had to rush to get him out there.
M is having a rough night, though, so, I'm trying to cheer him up a bit. While I wait for my son to get out to the car, I text him something random, just to give him a laugh. And then I'm driving to PG, so, both of the texts he sends in reply, all I can do is read them, because my son is all in a hurry to get there, and won't let me pull over to text back. Poor guy is waiting 20 min or more for me to answer, and who knows what he's thinking.
I stop in the driveway of the friends house, and text back while I wait to make sure my boy has actually been let in the door. I add a little note, apologizing for the delay, and telling him why. As I back out of the drive, I get this:
"Only 2 more hours and you could be here. :)"
(then, I knock over a garbage can, because, apparently, I can't even back out of a driveway after that.)
I'm tellin' ya, it was all I could do to turn my car towards home instead of heading North. And the number of times I had to pull over... It is not helpful to tell me I'd have to put up with some snuggling, for instance.
That was one seriously intense drive home.
When I finally got home, I ask: feel better?
He says, YES. So, for me, it was worth all the torture on my end.
I know he wasn't serious, and I could tell he was having a good time with it, teasing me.
It was a long time before I could get to sleep that night.
I get to put up with torture like this for a good long time, I'm guessing. That'll be fun.
M is having a rough night, though, so, I'm trying to cheer him up a bit. While I wait for my son to get out to the car, I text him something random, just to give him a laugh. And then I'm driving to PG, so, both of the texts he sends in reply, all I can do is read them, because my son is all in a hurry to get there, and won't let me pull over to text back. Poor guy is waiting 20 min or more for me to answer, and who knows what he's thinking.
I stop in the driveway of the friends house, and text back while I wait to make sure my boy has actually been let in the door. I add a little note, apologizing for the delay, and telling him why. As I back out of the drive, I get this:
"Only 2 more hours and you could be here. :)"
(then, I knock over a garbage can, because, apparently, I can't even back out of a driveway after that.)
I'm tellin' ya, it was all I could do to turn my car towards home instead of heading North. And the number of times I had to pull over... It is not helpful to tell me I'd have to put up with some snuggling, for instance.
That was one seriously intense drive home.
When I finally got home, I ask: feel better?
He says, YES. So, for me, it was worth all the torture on my end.
I know he wasn't serious, and I could tell he was having a good time with it, teasing me.
It was a long time before I could get to sleep that night.
I get to put up with torture like this for a good long time, I'm guessing. That'll be fun.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
how it started
We met as teenagers. I was 16, he was 17. (He's four months, to the day, older) A friend of mine insisted I had to come to the EFY dance over at BYU. I never attended EFY - couldn't afford it - but I liked to dance, so, I went.
Apparently, one of our other friends had been seriously flirting, all week, with a certain boy. But, as often happens with teenagers, by the end of the week, she'd gone off him. He needed a little extra attention, which is why they asked me to come.
When we arrive, another friend briefs us on the "break-up", advises us to be extra nice, and introduces us to a couple of cute boys. This is M, and his best friend, C.
I'm matched up with C, my friend with M. We dance.
And the whole time, I'm sorta looking over at M, thinking I'd rather be dancing with him. And he's dancing with her, looking over at me, thinking the same thing.
The song ends, and we switch.
New song is Cherish (not the Madonna song, the other one, Kool & the Gang? Can't remember), so it's a slow song.
We dance. We look into each others eyes. And when the song ends, we don't notice. It's all quiet, the floor clears, and we are still standing there, staring at each other.
Our friends have to pull us off the dance floor.
We go outside, all of us, and talk a bit. He's from Lehi, so, not exactly just down the street.
He looks, of all things, like Peter Brady (If you're young, you may have to Google that. Go ahead. I'll wait.).
Dark, curly hair (a little too much of it, but still...) intense blue eyes (which is where I get that weakness - so now you know) and this adorable crooked smile. He's gorgeous. And he's tall. (Being 5'7" from 7th grade on hasn't made it easy for me, boyfriend-wise.)
I'm thinking he'd look better if he cut his hair short, but I don't say anything.
We exchange phone numbers, and other important information, and lament the distance between our houses.
At the end of the evening (I seem to recall our respective friends having to drag us away, but I could be making that up), we both go home and do something that was, at the time, the thing LDS teenagers did after they'd met someone: We prayed about it. Asking if he/she was that person, the one we were meant to be with forever. We didn't discuss it, I didn't know he was doing the same thing I was, it just happened.
When he comes to see me, he's cut his hair. Exactly the way I would have suggested, had I said anything. (It's like a sign!) He's even more adorable. (Think: Tears for Fears - the cute one.)
He tells me that he prayed about me.
We share answers.
They are the same: YES, but not right now. (Totally not making this up. Those exact words, and we both got the same answer.)
We aren't sure what that means, except, we're teenagers, so, duh, not now. We're a little young for that.
Even then, we knew there was more to it than that.
Apparently, one of our other friends had been seriously flirting, all week, with a certain boy. But, as often happens with teenagers, by the end of the week, she'd gone off him. He needed a little extra attention, which is why they asked me to come.
When we arrive, another friend briefs us on the "break-up", advises us to be extra nice, and introduces us to a couple of cute boys. This is M, and his best friend, C.
I'm matched up with C, my friend with M. We dance.
And the whole time, I'm sorta looking over at M, thinking I'd rather be dancing with him. And he's dancing with her, looking over at me, thinking the same thing.
The song ends, and we switch.
New song is Cherish (not the Madonna song, the other one, Kool & the Gang? Can't remember), so it's a slow song.
We dance. We look into each others eyes. And when the song ends, we don't notice. It's all quiet, the floor clears, and we are still standing there, staring at each other.
Our friends have to pull us off the dance floor.
We go outside, all of us, and talk a bit. He's from Lehi, so, not exactly just down the street.
He looks, of all things, like Peter Brady (If you're young, you may have to Google that. Go ahead. I'll wait.).
Dark, curly hair (a little too much of it, but still...) intense blue eyes (which is where I get that weakness - so now you know) and this adorable crooked smile. He's gorgeous. And he's tall. (Being 5'7" from 7th grade on hasn't made it easy for me, boyfriend-wise.)
I'm thinking he'd look better if he cut his hair short, but I don't say anything.
We exchange phone numbers, and other important information, and lament the distance between our houses.
At the end of the evening (I seem to recall our respective friends having to drag us away, but I could be making that up), we both go home and do something that was, at the time, the thing LDS teenagers did after they'd met someone: We prayed about it. Asking if he/she was that person, the one we were meant to be with forever. We didn't discuss it, I didn't know he was doing the same thing I was, it just happened.
When he comes to see me, he's cut his hair. Exactly the way I would have suggested, had I said anything. (It's like a sign!) He's even more adorable. (Think: Tears for Fears - the cute one.)
He tells me that he prayed about me.
We share answers.
They are the same: YES, but not right now. (Totally not making this up. Those exact words, and we both got the same answer.)
We aren't sure what that means, except, we're teenagers, so, duh, not now. We're a little young for that.
Even then, we knew there was more to it than that.
Friday, December 9, 2011
mad again
I am the WORST at giving people space.
There was a time that I got good at it. My second husband was so insistent about that whole "guys don't want you to fix it, they want to go into their man-cave and figure it out on their own" thing, and I managed to make myself believe it was really the best way to deal with him.
And then he left, because we just didn't seem to be able to communicate anymore.
Yeah.
So, I think maybe it's understandable when I have issues with the concept now.
Besides which, isn't a friendship supposed to go both ways? I mean, if that's what we're going to call this, for whatever reason, then aren't I supposed to be able to tell him when I need a little attention, some validation, or maybe a hug?
I am not stupid. I know how things really are. I know exactly what he means when he says that he can't see me right now, because when we're together, logic and reason tend to go out the window, and both of us end up feeling like nothing else matters (you wish I was kidding, but I'm not).
I get it.
I just also really really really want things to already be the way I imagine they could be.
The way I always hoped it would be.
And it makes me mad that he thinks he needs time to figure out what he already knows.
At the same time, everything he says, everything he does, is exactly right.
Or at least, headed in the right direction, which, at this point, is all he can manage.
(insert scene from Jerry Maguire where she's telling her sister that she loves him...for the man he almost is...etc.)
When I stop and think about it, really think, I know everything is fine. I do.
It's just hard to balance that against all the time that came before. All the years when I didn't even dare to hope, when I tried to focus my thoughts elsewhere and consider, really consider, other possibilities.
And now, when this possibility is no longer far-fetched, because he's divorced, and he came looking for me, and, miracle of miracles, we both still feel the same, now I have to WAIT?!?
Well that's just....I don't even....
I am just not cut out for this.
There was a time that I got good at it. My second husband was so insistent about that whole "guys don't want you to fix it, they want to go into their man-cave and figure it out on their own" thing, and I managed to make myself believe it was really the best way to deal with him.
And then he left, because we just didn't seem to be able to communicate anymore.
Yeah.
So, I think maybe it's understandable when I have issues with the concept now.
Besides which, isn't a friendship supposed to go both ways? I mean, if that's what we're going to call this, for whatever reason, then aren't I supposed to be able to tell him when I need a little attention, some validation, or maybe a hug?
I am not stupid. I know how things really are. I know exactly what he means when he says that he can't see me right now, because when we're together, logic and reason tend to go out the window, and both of us end up feeling like nothing else matters (you wish I was kidding, but I'm not).
I get it.
I just also really really really want things to already be the way I imagine they could be.
The way I always hoped it would be.
And it makes me mad that he thinks he needs time to figure out what he already knows.
At the same time, everything he says, everything he does, is exactly right.
Or at least, headed in the right direction, which, at this point, is all he can manage.
(insert scene from Jerry Maguire where she's telling her sister that she loves him...for the man he almost is...etc.)
When I stop and think about it, really think, I know everything is fine. I do.
It's just hard to balance that against all the time that came before. All the years when I didn't even dare to hope, when I tried to focus my thoughts elsewhere and consider, really consider, other possibilities.
And now, when this possibility is no longer far-fetched, because he's divorced, and he came looking for me, and, miracle of miracles, we both still feel the same, now I have to WAIT?!?
Well that's just....I don't even....
I am just not cut out for this.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
holding pattern
I thought, maybe, we might have another date by now.
But, apparently not.
The blind date has been declared too immature. Apparently, he flirts with co-eds (he's a prof, so really, what else is there to flirt with?), and my friends now think he needs to grow up before we can go out again. I argued that it's normal, he was much younger when he was last single, and it takes a while to remember that you've gotten older. Didn't fly. Whatever.
My old flame, well, even though I felt it was too soon, I asked him to be my date for my office Christmas party. He accepted, but then sorta freaked out. So no, I don't get to see him, either.
I thought about asking someone else, but I've gone off the idea. Kinda hoping he'll change his mind. Or something.
Meantime, I miss him something fierce, and he's just trying to get through each day as it comes. (I remember that time in my life, and I ache for him, for what he's going through.)
He's got all these things he has to deal with, all this healing to do. And I'm not very good at waiting, patiently, for things to happen in their own time.
I need distractions.
But, apparently not.
The blind date has been declared too immature. Apparently, he flirts with co-eds (he's a prof, so really, what else is there to flirt with?), and my friends now think he needs to grow up before we can go out again. I argued that it's normal, he was much younger when he was last single, and it takes a while to remember that you've gotten older. Didn't fly. Whatever.
My old flame, well, even though I felt it was too soon, I asked him to be my date for my office Christmas party. He accepted, but then sorta freaked out. So no, I don't get to see him, either.
I thought about asking someone else, but I've gone off the idea. Kinda hoping he'll change his mind. Or something.
Meantime, I miss him something fierce, and he's just trying to get through each day as it comes. (I remember that time in my life, and I ache for him, for what he's going through.)
He's got all these things he has to deal with, all this healing to do. And I'm not very good at waiting, patiently, for things to happen in their own time.
I need distractions.
Monday, December 5, 2011
today
I would like to say: Go Away.
You should not have looked me up before you were ready,
before your heart was ready to love again.
I would like to say: you're right, it was selfish of you
and also: you know that fairy tale you wanted?
I'm so sorry, but we're all out at the moment.
All we've got is reality.
But I'm trying to be kind,
I'm trying to be patient,
so I'll just keep my mouth shut
until the mood passes.
You should not have looked me up before you were ready,
before your heart was ready to love again.
I would like to say: you're right, it was selfish of you
and also: you know that fairy tale you wanted?
I'm so sorry, but we're all out at the moment.
All we've got is reality.
But I'm trying to be kind,
I'm trying to be patient,
so I'll just keep my mouth shut
until the mood passes.
roller coaster
this morning, I think, I don't want to ruin my mood.
I'm too bubbly.
I won't open any emails from him, just in case.
but that's...wrong.
what if he needs something? or just wants to know I care?
and I just ignore him?
I look myself in the mirror, and I realize:
I signed on for this.
ups, downs, and everything in between.
I'm too bubbly.
I won't open any emails from him, just in case.
but that's...wrong.
what if he needs something? or just wants to know I care?
and I just ignore him?
I look myself in the mirror, and I realize:
I signed on for this.
ups, downs, and everything in between.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
waiting
when my second husband left me, I was devastated
didn't know where to turn, what to do
so I prayed
a lot
the answer I got, in no uncertain terms, was, "Just Wait"
there was peace and contentment in that answer for me
so, I waited.
life went on, as it does,
years passed, and I was (mostly) content with what was
when I began to tire of waiting, (for what, I didn't know - I had hopes, dreams, but didn't know what it was that God had asked me to wait for, just that I was supposed to wait)
I asked again, "what am I to do?"
and the answer came back, "Keep Waiting"
so I waited.
more years passed, and again, I grew tired of waiting,
(I'm only human, after all)
and I asked again, "what am I to do?"
and then, also, "how long will I be waiting?"
and the answer came, "Soon"
so I contented myself with that,
and continued to wait.
another two years have passed since then,
and I wonder just exactly what "soon" means to Him,
how His timeline runs, how I, a mere human,
am supposed to deal with my life on His terms.
I wonder, and I think about my life,
and I don't ask again.
I'm afraid of the answer.
I'm (almost) certain, somehow, that I've missed it
whatever it was
and then
and then, I got a message.
nothing huge
no declarations of undying love.
just a birthday wish
from someone I used to love
someone I never really stopped loving
(because, if you ever loved someone, really loved them, that doesn't ever go away)
and my whole world stopped
just for a moment
but, it was my birthday
and a long time ago, I stopped expecting anything for my birthday, and just started enjoying it for what it was, so everything that came my way was a bonus
"Happy Birthday to me!"
(that's how I was feeling)
so instead of deleting the message,
I answered
which is what led me to here, now
and I still don't know what it is that I'm waiting for
but I do know:
the heart wants what it wants
you never do stop loving someone you ever truly loved
and also:
I will continue to wait
didn't know where to turn, what to do
so I prayed
a lot
the answer I got, in no uncertain terms, was, "Just Wait"
there was peace and contentment in that answer for me
so, I waited.
life went on, as it does,
years passed, and I was (mostly) content with what was
when I began to tire of waiting, (for what, I didn't know - I had hopes, dreams, but didn't know what it was that God had asked me to wait for, just that I was supposed to wait)
I asked again, "what am I to do?"
and the answer came back, "Keep Waiting"
so I waited.
more years passed, and again, I grew tired of waiting,
(I'm only human, after all)
and I asked again, "what am I to do?"
and then, also, "how long will I be waiting?"
and the answer came, "Soon"
so I contented myself with that,
and continued to wait.
another two years have passed since then,
and I wonder just exactly what "soon" means to Him,
how His timeline runs, how I, a mere human,
am supposed to deal with my life on His terms.
I wonder, and I think about my life,
and I don't ask again.
I'm afraid of the answer.
I'm (almost) certain, somehow, that I've missed it
whatever it was
and then
and then, I got a message.
nothing huge
no declarations of undying love.
just a birthday wish
from someone I used to love
someone I never really stopped loving
(because, if you ever loved someone, really loved them, that doesn't ever go away)
and my whole world stopped
just for a moment
but, it was my birthday
and a long time ago, I stopped expecting anything for my birthday, and just started enjoying it for what it was, so everything that came my way was a bonus
"Happy Birthday to me!"
(that's how I was feeling)
so instead of deleting the message,
I answered
which is what led me to here, now
and I still don't know what it is that I'm waiting for
but I do know:
the heart wants what it wants
you never do stop loving someone you ever truly loved
and also:
I will continue to wait
Friday, December 2, 2011
accidentally
went blues dancing last night
danced with strange men I did not know and
came home smelling of colognes I did not recognize
danced with strange men I did not know and
came home smelling of colognes I did not recognize
Thursday, December 1, 2011
a moment
to say it's complicated doesn't cover it, not by half.
except, it's not.
because, usually, what people mean by "complicated", when talking about relationships, is that one or the other of them is already "involved" with someone else.
which is certainly not what's going on here.
he's not involved with anyone.
he isn't running away from anything.
and he came looking for me.
it's just that he came looking too soon.
he's not ready.
not in that "I'm just not ready for a relationship" way. no. more of a "my marriage just ended, and even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I'm going to need some time to recover." which is totally, completely, absolutely what he needs to be doing right now.
he does not need to be jumping into a new (old) relationship.
he does not need to be worrying about hurting yet another person he cares about.
part of me wants to tell him (maybe sort of did tell him already) that he should just go away, work through his feelings, find a new normal, put himself back together. and later, when he's ready, when he can finally open his heart again, then, and only then, he can come and find me again.
and that would be, I am pretty sure, the absolute best thing to tell him right now.
but
I also know how very lonely it is where he is. I have been there. and when I was there, he was there for me. he let me know I was worth loving, that I wasn't crazy, or stupid, or mean. he gave me hope. he allowed me to feel normal, even if only for a few minutes.
all that, because he loved me. because he valued me as a person.
it is so scary to open yourself up to someone and share that with them. especially when you know you're not going to be getting anything in return. not because you're not lovable, but because they just aren't capable of giving you anything.
I know how much that meant to me, at that time in my life.
I would like to return the favor, if I can.
but I don't want to be in the way.
he needs time to heal.
except, it's not.
because, usually, what people mean by "complicated", when talking about relationships, is that one or the other of them is already "involved" with someone else.
which is certainly not what's going on here.
he's not involved with anyone.
he isn't running away from anything.
and he came looking for me.
it's just that he came looking too soon.
he's not ready.
not in that "I'm just not ready for a relationship" way. no. more of a "my marriage just ended, and even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I'm going to need some time to recover." which is totally, completely, absolutely what he needs to be doing right now.
he does not need to be jumping into a new (old) relationship.
he does not need to be worrying about hurting yet another person he cares about.
part of me wants to tell him (maybe sort of did tell him already) that he should just go away, work through his feelings, find a new normal, put himself back together. and later, when he's ready, when he can finally open his heart again, then, and only then, he can come and find me again.
and that would be, I am pretty sure, the absolute best thing to tell him right now.
but
I also know how very lonely it is where he is. I have been there. and when I was there, he was there for me. he let me know I was worth loving, that I wasn't crazy, or stupid, or mean. he gave me hope. he allowed me to feel normal, even if only for a few minutes.
all that, because he loved me. because he valued me as a person.
it is so scary to open yourself up to someone and share that with them. especially when you know you're not going to be getting anything in return. not because you're not lovable, but because they just aren't capable of giving you anything.
I know how much that meant to me, at that time in my life.
I would like to return the favor, if I can.
but I don't want to be in the way.
he needs time to heal.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
in other news
You know that thing I've been waiting for?
That certain someone (or possible someone) that seems to have kept me from dating, or meeting new people?
Remember how crazy/stupid that sounded?
(Unless you saw that as romantic, which I totally understand.)
Remember how many times I was just so "over" that, and ready to move on?
Remember how I got all mad a couple weeks ago, and finally was, really and truly, OVER IT?
Turns out, while I still feel it's true that I am no longer "waiting", that I'm finally free, emotionally, to allow others into my life (and heart), it seems that the wait is over.
This may not turn out like I wanted.
This may not work out at all, actually.
But at least, it's started.
And you know what? Whatever happens, I'm good with that.
(also, no matter how many times I try to tell myself I'm not, I am so in love with him. there, I said it.)
That certain someone (or possible someone) that seems to have kept me from dating, or meeting new people?
Remember how crazy/stupid that sounded?
(Unless you saw that as romantic, which I totally understand.)
Remember how many times I was just so "over" that, and ready to move on?
Remember how I got all mad a couple weeks ago, and finally was, really and truly, OVER IT?
Turns out, while I still feel it's true that I am no longer "waiting", that I'm finally free, emotionally, to allow others into my life (and heart), it seems that the wait is over.
This may not turn out like I wanted.
This may not work out at all, actually.
But at least, it's started.
And you know what? Whatever happens, I'm good with that.
(also, no matter how many times I try to tell myself I'm not, I am so in love with him. there, I said it.)
Monday, November 28, 2011
confused
he should not have kissed me,
he should not have kissed me,
he should not have kissed me...
and I definitely should not have kissed him back.
probably.
he should not have kissed me,
he should not have kissed me...
and I definitely should not have kissed him back.
probably.
Fabulous Weekend
It really was. Fabulous, I mean.
I had a brief rendezvous with an old friend. Still dreaming about that.
And then I had my blind date, and he was very nice. Good conversation, charming, funny.
And he wore the same cologne.
I just about fell over.
(Somebody up there must think that's funny.)
I had a brief rendezvous with an old friend. Still dreaming about that.
And then I had my blind date, and he was very nice. Good conversation, charming, funny.
And he wore the same cologne.
I just about fell over.
(Somebody up there must think that's funny.)
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