He spends holidays with the family. Usually a mile or so away at his parents' house, though sometimes at the house of a sibling. He has a lot of them. Occasionally he ventures all the way into the next state to visit the one brother who bought a house that far away. But never alone. He gets a ride with some of the others.
He can't drive.
We used to talk about it beforehand. I'd tell him to think of his kitten hiding under the table. I'd be curled up at his feet, until the urge to be naughty became too much for me. Then he'd feel my hand sneaking into his lap... I wanted him to think of me as he had dinner with his parents and the gang of siblings. I wanted him to get an erection, and then feel the blush staining his pale, Irish face, until it almost matched his red Irish hair.
I envied him his close family. I kept thinking that one day I'd get to meet them. They fascinated me, all so different, all so close. I have pictures of his cute and funny red-headed niece, who is his goddaughter.
Some of his family is on Facebook. I resist the temptation to send a message to the brother to whom he's closest, the brother who had invited us to have dinner with him and his wife. I resist the temptation to write and introduce myself, to say I'm worried about John, I'm worried he may be depressed, is he doing ok, is he making progress on the dissertation, please don't/do let him know I asked after him...
I'm trying hard to let go. I have to let go. I couldn't take the silence, especially when I know, I know, I've known all along somehow deep inside that it was all a fantasy.
And yet the pain keeps coming back. I'm going up to New York next week and I wish I could tell him I'll be in New York next week and how about meeting my bus and going somewhere for tea just to talk. Just so I can see him again.
It wouldn't happen.
I drove him crazy.
He has no room for me.
He has no room for anyone.
He has a goal.
He has to finish.
He doesn't have relationships.
Except for the family.
He spends holidays with his family. And he used to sneak off during the family dinners to check his e-mail. If anyone commented, he'd say he was expecting something from a student. I'd send him provocative messages, and he'd write back, and then slip back into the family gathering.
I wonder if he thought of me today.
But I thought of him.
I still do
think of him
Do they sell Super Glue for broken hearts?