Saturday, March 21, 2009

Lingering longing

I miss him.
I do.

I'm not consumed by pain, I don't sob daily like I did last summer after he broke up with me definitively and cruelly. In many ways I feel relief more than anything. I'm no longer pretending to myself that it is going to work. I'm no longer trying to squelch those nagging doubts that said things would never change, that he would finish - someday - and still not be ready for a full relationship. He may just be one of those guys - the "confirmed bachelors" who were that way not because they were gay but because something else, indefinable, stood in the way.

It's all speculation, of course. But no matter how close we were - and yes, I still believe there was something between us that was beautiful and extraordinary and that leaves me in awe when I think about it - he held something back. Or so it seemed. And it made me reach out for it in a way that drove him nuts and that made me increasingly irrational and needy.

And eventually I started doubting what I felt. Not that it had been. But that it was still there.

I thought I could do it. I really did. I thought my love was a bulb, with all that food stored up down inside that would help it survive a long winter deprived of attention and connection. I thought it would go dormant, and dormant plants don't need that much water. But I was wrong. Or maybe I was right in principle but this particular bulb, having been deprived for so long, needed a little more water than it was getting. And a little food.

The birthday present was food.
The birthday call was food.
The occasional e-mail volleys were water.

But they just weren't enough.

I miscalculated.

And then (and this is the real reason I'm beating up on myself, gang, and you do have to allow me this one, we need to be kind to each other, he really didn't deserve this) I wasn't strong enough to say "this isn't working." I couldn't say that without enough contact - even just a few more e-mails - it was slipping away from me. So I moaned and groaned until finally he said enough.

But I miss him . . .

I was driving to a friend's house early this evening to feed her kittens (if he's reading this, which I don't think he is, he'll know whose house I mean). And there was this most amazing sun. It hung just a little above the horizon, a brilliant red, so intense, the fire of passionate love, burning straight ahead of me . . . and I couldn't help thinking that I wanted to write him about it, I wished I could have taken a picture to send him, I forgot I have a phone with a camera.

When there is something beautiful
when there is something funny
when there is something glorious
he is the one I want to share it with.

I still picture us curled up on the couch together. I still cherish the memories of his visits here. But they don't hurt in the same way. Because I've stopped denying the reality that was staring me in the face - the very strong suspicion that he would never be back down here. That he would never allow me to come up and visit. I've accepted that it wasn't going to work, that for whatever reason it wasn't going to work, between personal realities and life realities it just wasn't going to work. He was smarter about that than I was. He knew.

So I've accepted the reality.

But I keep wishing that one day we will be able to be friends, without hoping for more.

And meanwhile, here and there, now and then, I do miss him.


pixie said...

oatmeal girl...
i still read you. :)
i am sorry you are sad...and i know the longing lingers. i know.

weirdgirl said...

When there is something beautiful
when there is something funny
when there is something glorious
he is the one I want to share it with


*le sigh*

Anonymous said...

Well even if you were persistent, I'm still not sure it's necessary to beat yourself up about it. It's hard to let go, so hard.


mamacrow said...

I'm sorry (((HUGS)))

'When there is something beautiful
when there is something funny
when there is something glorious
he is the one I want to share it with'

just beautiful.

cutesy pah said...

no one's here to beat you up, but only to give you support when you bring yourself down. {{oatmeal girl}}

of course you miss him! I would worry about you if you didn't. no matter how bad a relationship is, there are always those good things - otherwise, it would have never become a relationship in the first place.

even the worst abuser has something which touched the heart of his victim, and had his moments when he could be gentle. this is how we become victims (imho) in that we believe that love must hurt (and I'm not talking BDSM-type of pain), and the emotional overload must exist if we're in love.

For me, as a recovering codependent, and a recovering relationship addict, I know that when it hurts to love, or when love is painful, I'm loving too much, not because I want it to hurt, but because it's what I've learned to identify as love.

I have a bad habit of doing more than my 50% of the relationship requires: I'm picking up his part because he's not, and I'm somehow convinced that if he sees what efforts I'm making to work on the relationship, he'll want to pitch in. The truth is he sees that it's ok to let you do all the work.

when I finally realized and accepted this concept, then I could be open to someone more romantic, more calm, more peaceful, and I didn't need the drama, or the tension, or the battle to get my man to do things and see things my way. yes, for a while it was uncomfortable, and I kept trying to create drama, to create issues where there were none, as I didn't know any other way. thank goodness I found Daddy who doesn't have much in the way of emotional baggage, and who realized what I was doing, and had the good sense to call me out on it, and pushed me to stop.

I know you're still not convinced the breakup is not about you. You still sound as though you believe that if you'd behaved differently that things would somehow have ended more friendly. I don't believe it for a minute.

for he, too, allowed this to drag on, knowing all the while he was never going to commit. and, that, you'll never know for certain, but even if you could find out, it's highly unlikely that you would get the actual truth, but only his version of it. because that would require him to admit and take responsibility for his part of the relationship, one thing few men (particularly those who claim to be dominant but are not) are willing to do.

so, miss him, love him from afar, cry your heart out, and take all the attention and hugs offered to you while you mourn the this relationship's potential. for I know that's all that I mourned - what I thought would have been, or could have been, but not what ever really occurred.

for I believe that if the relationship had reached the point of "what could have been," he would have been involved enough to do his part to keep the love light burning.

and besides, I know you deserve better.....

baby girl said...

it's so hard to let go. of what was and what could have been. the only thing for it is time. so give yourself that time and be kind to yourself in the process. xox

oatmeal girl said...

pixie - thank you so much! we've all of us had our hard times, but those of us who are wrestling with love and loss at the same time - we read each other, and we understand so well, and we commiserate while our own pot of pain is being brought back to a boil.

we all take care of each other.

weirdgirl and mamacrow - i'm not hurting all the time. and i'm certainly not suffering the way i was last summer, when the grief pervaded everything the way the sadist's ownership is ever-present now. but then there are these moments...

Velvet - yes. it's hard to let go. i'm not doing such a bad job now. although there are some things...

cutesy pah - you've given me LOTS to think about. I'm glad in a way that what i have with my demon muse has no chance of turning into a love relationship. i need time of. i need time to remind myself about accepting red flags when they are being waved in front of my face. unlike persephone's owners,the sadist isn't trying to prepare me for a healthy full-scale relation- ship. he is training me to serve his needs, and that's quite enough, thank you. but i AM growing under his tutelage, and learning about myself, and hopefully, should a miracle happen and another lover with potential come along, maybe i'll be able to judge things more clearly and choose more wisely.