Groundhog Day

Posted on: January 10, 2011

Today… it was just like New Year’s Day.

Raging hangover, in bed all day, talked to my… something… and cried.

August 2009, on opposite coasts, in different time zones, we became more than just slight acquaintances in passing. We met years earlier, and after maybe 5 years of rolling in the same social circle and living in the same city, we finally became friends.

In November 2009, I tried to hook him up with my sister. That’s when I found out he was “on my top.”

January 7, 2010 was the day we officially decided to be more than just friends. About a week later was our last conversation. His last sentence was… I can’t tell you that, but it was G rated and he called me beautiful.

*Someone recently mentioned to me that they heard I was very beautiful and it obviously came from him… I’m just not sure when.

April something (yes, three months later) is when he explained why I hadn’t heard from him since that last conversation.

I tried earlier today to write “our” story. I can’t remember the details, the dates, the words that made it so special, and that’s a good thing, because sharing them would detract from them. I couldn’t publish what I had written, though, for the same reason. It’s too personal. I have to keep it to myself. I’m funny like that. Privacy issues.

Trying to write it just made me even more upset because I thoroughly understand the perceived absurdity of loving (so deeply) someone you’ve literally never touched. Sometimes I think I am a fool for falling in love with someone I never even shared a meal with. But, that is me. I’m a Gemini. The way to my heart is through my head, and the only people I’ve ever fallen for have wooed me with their words.

The distance is what did it. We were on opposite coasts, and we talked all day, every day. You’d be amazed at the bond it creates. At just how much manages to be said, when all you have are words to exchange. No meaningful glances, no profound silence, no shared experiences. You have to say EVERYTHING. Just talking to each other. 24/7. Texts, BBM, Skype, Twitter, Facebook, Ustream, all nighters on the phone… you’d really be amazed at just how much you share when the only thing you can do together is talk.

I got to know him in those five months. To understand him. Far better than I would have if we had been physically close. A whole lot less would have been said in person. It would have been more censored, and the *click* was outrageous, so we’d have probably been humping like rabbits or something other than talking.

Plus, by him being there and me being here, he was always in his element and I was always in mine, so things flowed more freely.

There was no growing apart, no disagreement, no falling out, no bitter breakup, just… his concise explanation, and my very simple response. I was… angry when I was in the dark – very angry, and rightly so, I believe – but, when the reason came out, I couldn’t give him anything but respect.

My heart was absolutely broken. Devastated. I had a physical pain in my chest that lasted almost as long as his consumption and utter domination of my world did. It took me a long time to cry, even though I was so used to going to bed talking to him and waking up talking to him, that sheer force of habit – checking my texts when I woke up – reminded me daily of what was no longer there.

I’m not sure why I couldn’t cry, but when I did… smh… Headaches and stopped-up noses and everything.

I eventually wrote him a letter… nothing hurtful or hateful, just telling him how heartbroken I really was. How much what “we” had meant to me. He was my best friend for those last two months. My world. Weeks after he read it, I asked my best friend to read the letter and she said my words made her cry. I haven’t had the heart to read it since.

Time heals all wounds, right… I mean, I’m over it… He and I speak almost daily, both in private, and publicly. No one would ever know what was going on behind the scenes. Just like when we were “we.”

I saw a picture of him today, and my heart just broke all over again. I told him. It feels strange talking to him about it. Some part of me feels like it isn’t fair that I had to let go of something so fairy-tale through no fault of my own. I didn’t fuck it up and I didn’t call it quits. How is it right that I lost it?

I didn’t even realize the proximity to the date… not like I was gonna mourn on an “anniversary” or something, but, hell, I’ll never forget that date.

I don’t mourn the loss of him, because I haven’t lost HIM at all. I don’t mourn the lost love, because I still adore him and I suspect it might be mutual. Just on a different level.

I never, for a second, regret loving anyone, because it feels so good to give love, and the moments of joy will always have been worth it.

I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad when it DOES hurt.

One of the lessons I have learned in my lifetime, and the thought of which is totally my solace… Whenever something great ends, it’s only because something greater is coming.

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  • Najeema: I've got the same plans (and posterboard on my kitchen table) for a vision board. I'll share mine if you share yours, lol. Hoping you attract everythi
  • NVRGVUP: Love is where it's at!
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