Well, I’m back from my trip. Or rather I got back incredibly late Monday night. I had planned to be gone for at least another week, and could easily have spent the remainder of my planned time in Austin, but I had a job to do out on the road and I did it. I found something new, or in point of fact I found that there was nothing new to find, just a new way to look at what I’ve always had. I won’t get into it because every post for the last month has diverged from its intended purpose drastically, this one included. I came here to write about something entirely different than the trip, mainly because it occurred to me to do so but also because I don’t feel like struggling my way through another needlessly verbose post on this fucking phone. I came here to kind of continue the subject of my recent posts.
I’ve written a lot about how I’m still in love with my ex-fiancée, about how my perceptions of our relationship have troubled and, to a degree, haunted me. I’ve written a lot about how her absence from my life is like a continuous torture and I’m getting tired of it, as I’m sure my anonymous readers are as well (unless you’re silently gloating or rejoicing over my pain, who knows. I have my suspicions about who my most recent visiters have been, The Lady in question excluded of course, and would like to think this wasn’t the case.) I’m getting tired of bemoaning the sad, sorry, state of my life without her. It still sucks, to be sure, but none of this writing has helped much. Or at least not for long. I’m still in love with someone I shouldn’t be and I accept that now. I used to be angry, and that’ll probably pop back up from time to time, but I’m getting over it. I am who I am and I’m ok with that. I wish I didn’t still love her so much, but if I didn’t I probably wouldn’t have loved her as much as I did when we were still together. And that would’ve made the better part of four years of my life a foolish act filled with a lot of unnecessary pain. The feelings I have now are a consequence of the feelings that began growing in me almost as soon as we started hanging out and I need to be ok with that or I’ll ruin years of wonderful memories. And I am ok with it, I’m fine knowing that I still love her, still want to be with her, I’m even fine with her knowing it (though I have no doubt that she didn’t need to read it to know it.) I just fucking want it to stop. I want to stop playing a hand from which I came away a stronger player but still lost my shirt. I want a new dealer and a new hand that I can maybe have a chance of winning. I loved our time together and I always will. It was something rare and beautiful that few people every really get, but it’s over. I’m tired of holding on to my cards hoping the game’s not over and that I might come away a winner when it comes time to call. I’m tired of hoping for something that, for at least five reasons I can think of and probably a lot more that I can’t, just is not going to happen. And the truth is I have never really had any reason to think it would. The fact is, if she had wanted me back anytime since the breakup it was likely a fleeting moment that came and then went as soon as it drifted into her mind. But maybe I’m wrong and maybe I’m underestimating what I meant to her for the last four years. I just know that if she had that moment, and if It lasted long enough to act upon, I’d be spending my Saturday with her instead of being alone at the beach reading waiting to meet up with some random Germans I met in Chicago. I know that my time with her was not foolish, as I’ve said before it was a gift I will always cherish, but this time now is. At the end of the day I need to reexamine my personal definition of self-respect. I need to learn that self-respect shouldn’t come from being quixotic. I shouldn’t have to tilt at windmills to respect myself or my feelings for anyone. And as soon as I figure out how to do that, without turning into a heartless asshole, I’m going to. But for now I’m still, more or less, exactly where I was before I left. I found some shit out there that was good and certainly added a couple of crazy stories to my repetoire. Was the trip worth the time and money? Who knows, it may be to early to tell right now. I guess we’ll see when the dust finishes settling.
It’s often been my wont to say “life’s a process” and I’ve realized that the only way to make it through is to live it. I’m certainly doing my fair share of that, even if it is a hell of a lot lonelier than I’d like.
Still battling his demons and looking for a Vorpal Sword (if you haven’t read or seen Jabberwocky you’re just not gonna get that reference,)