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October 04, 2006
Sometimes I wish for the warmth of his hand
Some days I feel strong and brave and free, and although I miss the boy I lost, it feels okay, it feels wistful but tolerable, but the last day or so have been hard. I keep feeling these swells of emotion, of loss, and it feels so fresh, as though the last time we spent together was just hours ago, and not weeks, and I feel overcome with sadness.
I've tried thinking of ways it could be worse: We could be angry with each other; he could be dead. Somehow those aren't as much consolation as they could be.
He and I talked last week, had a kind of post-mortem. It went really well; we had a deeper, better talk than I'd have thought we could manage, so soon after ending things. We decided to take a real break from each other, to not be in touch for six months. (I have a friend who said that was very wise, that she's always thought the "reset switch" takes six months before it works; she also added that a person can hold her breath for three months, but no one can hold their breath for six months. Six months means you have to go on with your life.) It felt right, a good decision, and I still think it's the right decision, but oh, I miss him.
I hate that we couldn't make things work on our first try, or our second try. I hate that we might never even decide to take a third try. I hate that we had such a wonderful time together, but drove each other bugfuck crazy in our various ways. I hate that what we had felt so special, so unique, so thoroughly unprecedented, and yet now I realize it's just the same thing everyone goes through; we love, we lose, we cry.
I hate that I'm learning an enormous amount about myself, and how I interact with the world, and with other people, especially lovers, and that it's all a result of the relationship with him, but that he may never see the benefit of it. I don't *want* to show up on some new lover's doorstep all ready for a mature, happy, polyamorous relationship. I want to show up on his.
And yet I have to let go of wanting to show up on his doorstep if I'm to ever get the chance to show up on his doorstep. It's my own little koan.
I think there's a book in this, surviving a breakup by finding Buddhism. I'd probably hate myself if I wrote it, though.
I *miiiiiiiiiiiss* him. I want to talk to him about all the books I've read in the last month, and all the cool things I'm up to, and all the thinking I've been doing, and I want to hear all about what *he's* been doing, and, and, and. And I want to lie in his arms and hold him and never let him go.
Auuuugh.
Posted by Rose at October 4, 2006 06:15 PM