Don't worry - I'll be back.
In the end I suppose it was my fault. It was my fault for seeing her in the first place. It was my fault for continuing to see her. And it was my fault for ending our so-called “relationship”.
But even so, I still think about her. As time separates us I’m able to think about her in a more objective kind of way. I’m able to think about her in a way that doesn’t hurt as much. Nonetheless, I have to admit that at my most melancholy I still have the urge to pick up the phone and call her. But I know she won’t answer. She’ll just see it’s me calling and let it go through to voicemail. Then she’ll turn off her phone and won’t answer it for the rest of the night.
I’m making her sound cruel and harsh. Perhaps in a way she is. But I still have the utmost respect for her. She had her troubles in the past and on her own, she made it through coming out a stronger person in the end. She’s led a double life for almost 4 years now and she’s one of the strongest people I know. In fact, I can safely say that I don’t know anyone else who could have done what she has so far in life.
In a few days it will be 6 months. 6 months since I saw her. 6 months since I spoke with her. 6 months since I held her hand. 6 months since I told her that my own biases and prejudiced ways forged my path for me. I would that she could have been with me as a friend. But that was not to be.
In the end she loved my money. She may have even liked me, but she loved money more than anything else. And money was easy to get; it still is for her. She has to work for it, but she clearly still likes her line of work and ultimately loves the money even more. I don’t begrudge her for that – it’s who she is and it’s what she does. Who am I to criticize that?
I cherish the time I spent with her. I treasure the moments we had and the spirited dynamism we shared ever so briefly. But with the naïveté of a child I thought there could be more. I thought we could move to a different relationship – a friendly one, one of mutual support and respect. But where I was willing to give, in the end she was only willing to take.
There is sadness still when I think of her. But despite my harsh words, I bear her no ill will. After all, what is love but “a madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet”?
There are aspects of this that will always badger me. Oddly the two things that will burn within me forever are the facts that I never got the chance to give her a Christmas present I chose specially for her, and that she never remembered my birthday. Petty things to be sure, but perhaps symbolic overall of our association.
I wish her only the best. She is a wonderful person and deserves to be treated like the princess she is. As for me, time heals everything and the world keeps turning. I’ll catch you on the flip side.
In the end I suppose it was my fault. It was my fault for seeing her in the first place. It was my fault for continuing to see her. And it was my fault for ending our so-called “relationship”.
But even so, I still think about her. As time separates us I’m able to think about her in a more objective kind of way. I’m able to think about her in a way that doesn’t hurt as much. Nonetheless, I have to admit that at my most melancholy I still have the urge to pick up the phone and call her. But I know she won’t answer. She’ll just see it’s me calling and let it go through to voicemail. Then she’ll turn off her phone and won’t answer it for the rest of the night.
I’m making her sound cruel and harsh. Perhaps in a way she is. But I still have the utmost respect for her. She had her troubles in the past and on her own, she made it through coming out a stronger person in the end. She’s led a double life for almost 4 years now and she’s one of the strongest people I know. In fact, I can safely say that I don’t know anyone else who could have done what she has so far in life.
In a few days it will be 6 months. 6 months since I saw her. 6 months since I spoke with her. 6 months since I held her hand. 6 months since I told her that my own biases and prejudiced ways forged my path for me. I would that she could have been with me as a friend. But that was not to be.
In the end she loved my money. She may have even liked me, but she loved money more than anything else. And money was easy to get; it still is for her. She has to work for it, but she clearly still likes her line of work and ultimately loves the money even more. I don’t begrudge her for that – it’s who she is and it’s what she does. Who am I to criticize that?
I cherish the time I spent with her. I treasure the moments we had and the spirited dynamism we shared ever so briefly. But with the naïveté of a child I thought there could be more. I thought we could move to a different relationship – a friendly one, one of mutual support and respect. But where I was willing to give, in the end she was only willing to take.
There is sadness still when I think of her. But despite my harsh words, I bear her no ill will. After all, what is love but “a madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet”?
There are aspects of this that will always badger me. Oddly the two things that will burn within me forever are the facts that I never got the chance to give her a Christmas present I chose specially for her, and that she never remembered my birthday. Petty things to be sure, but perhaps symbolic overall of our association.
I wish her only the best. She is a wonderful person and deserves to be treated like the princess she is. As for me, time heals everything and the world keeps turning. I’ll catch you on the flip side.
