Honestly what will become of me don't like reality
It's way too clear to me
But really life is daily
We are what we don't see
Missed everything daydreaming
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end
--Nelly Furtado
I don't know how to start this. I have so much to say that I don't know where to begin. It all started the night before last... lately, I have been really unable to sleep well. But the night before last, I fell into a deep sleep.
I had a dream about him, the guy I affectionately refer to as J. I had a dream that I couldn't recall when I woke up. But a persistent feeling overwhelmed me. I had given it thought months ago and then quickly dismissed it. I decided that a part of my heart, the part that won't allow me to become attached to someone new, was still struggling with the fact that J had hurt me and I never felt it was resolved. I woke up and decided that I had to write him a letter, one last letter-just to tell him how I felt. The feeling was so strong, that I knew it was something I'd follow through on. I briefly wondered what had possessed me. After all, J and I hadn't spoken in ... I couldn't remember how long.
As I was going about the dredgery of an ordinary work day, I saw a face appear in my doorway with a smile. It was him.
"Wanna go to lunch?" he asked me. I didn't even give it a second thought before replying. I gathered my things, ushered a client out of my office, and that's when my heart lept into my throat. He never asked me to lunch; something was going on. The only time he ever seemed to want to see me these days was when there was some incredible news to share. This is it, I thought to myself. They are going to get married.
Strangely, it wasn't the thought of them getting married that bothered me as much as his big production about telling me things like that. He'd never just come out and tell me; it was as if he always had to break the news to me gently-as if the world was coming to an end. But I realize now, that's just the way he is and always has been. But I was wrong about what he had to tell me ... I just didn't know it yet.
We walked to his car, and I could still feel that something between us. I had just begun to feel normal again, and he had to come around.
We had lunch together, talking about our lives and the people in them as if it were only a few days since we last spoke and not the truth of it which was like an ocean between us; so much had happened, so much that we couldn't change or take back.
His girlfriend is due soon. I know the name of the baby; I know so many things I shouldn't know. But that's the trouble when you work in a place that's like a family. The news comes and goes and spreads like a fire. At one time, he and I had been careful to hide our relationship in fear that, if found out, it could look bad for both our careers. Supervisors don't usually date peons. But I didn't really care about it as much as he did. For all the care we took, people still knew. So now that they have been surprised with the news that he has another girlfriend and she's pregant, there seems to be no end to their constant inquiries... it's as if his life and all the dirty laundry between us is on display. People can't understand what went wrong between us and I don't really have an answer to give them.
I was nervous during lunch-waiting for the ball to drop-waiting for the news he had come to bring to me to be brought up. And before I was even prepared, I blurted out, "Have you come to tell me you're getting married?"
"No." He looked at me strangely.
"The thing is ..." he paused, and then in a hushed tone said, "Well, the thing is, I really miss you."
I felt as though my heart stopped beating.
"And I'd really like you to be able to come over when you want to. I really want us to be friends. And I think that she is finally coming around to the idea."
Friends? Who was he kidding. We weren't friends. We were no more friends than we were acquainted with each other. It was as if two strangers were sitting together having lunch ... and yet, there it was, still that connection that lingered between us.
Even though so much time had passed, he could still feel my thoughts and read my expressions. My face and expressions were an open book and our minds, still more alike than I realized or cared to admit.
The truth was, whether I cared to admit it or not, there was something still hanging between us--a silent question that lingered in the dark distance that had grown yet somehow shackled us together all at the same time: could we still be friends?
I told him that I had decided that I didn't know if we could be friends-because I respected her and knew that she deserved to feel safe and secure in their relationship. But when he told me he missed me, I wanted to crawl back into his arms and tell him everything was going to be all right.
But I was torn. Here we were, months later, closing doors that were still left open. I know now that we purposely left them open because somewhere, deep in our hearts, we still love each other. Of course our love could no longer be realized. She was pregnant and I have moved on. A lot has changed and yet little. This was the time when we would have to make a decision on whether or not we closed the door forever and became friends, or left it open, and struggled on for years with unsettled feelings.
I think we both knew the answer; I told him that his friendship was important to me, even though I had already told him that I would give it up in a heartbeat if it made her uspet.
Closing that door means that we can never go back. He told me that too, over lunch. "I can't go back and think about what if's or different decisions I could have made," he said. "I simply have to deal with what I have in front of me and work it out."
It was one of the most intelligent and level-headed things I had ever heard him say. Yet I knew that I couldn't close that door to our relationship without telling him how it all had affected me.
I told him, very briefly, that he had really hurt my self esteem and I told him how I felt as though he abandoned me when I needed him the most. I let out all of the hurt I had harboured these past two years with as little emotion and as much ease as I could.
Normally, my telling him these things would have resulted in anger, defensiveness, and an abrupt end to our lunch. But for the first time, he met my words with integrity, honesty, and apology. He apologized and told me, "It was not your fault. It was never about you. I want you to know that. It was me. It was my fault; it was my bad." He didn't get angry or defensive and I could see a change in him. But telling him how I felt, and by him saying what he did, it was as if an unspoken fog had lifted and our hearts could finally be free. He had felt guilt that needed to be resolved and my heart needed closure and acceptance. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly.
To put it mildly, it was like a miracle. I wish I could describe it better and truly do it justice. It was as if God was closing up all the loose ends of my life so that I could move on to something else.
We ended our lunch in peace and friendship, having closed the door on our relationship forever. While it almost seems easier for me to have a reason to hate him, I feel as though everything is going to be okay; he is forgiven for everything. We can now move on and get back to being friends again. But one thing will never change--I will always love him and love what we had for that short time.
I think that love just is what it is. It doesn't always have a reason or a meaning or a deeper truth. You can't always help who you love. God puts people in your life for a moment or a lifetime and you just have to enjoy them while they are with you and around you. I know now that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Because now I have the idea of someone, the idea of love, the idea of taking this life and making my next relationship into something great. For a moment, I got to love and be a part of something great.
The best thing is, I have learned to trust again. I have learned to give again, without expecting something in return. I have learned that there is a reason for things, you just have to discover what that is.
There were so many things about J that I loved. The things I loved the most were things that I can still enjoy in our friendship. The only thing I still am searching for is that connection ... and I won't settle for any less in someone else.
So I don't know how to end this blog ... few of us get the kind of closure that we need to feel better. It took two years for me to get it and perhaps, at last, I can sleep.
I don't know how to start this. I have so much to say that I don't know where to begin. It all started the night before last... lately, I have been really unable to sleep well. But the night before last, I fell into a deep sleep.
I had a dream about him, the guy I affectionately refer to as J. I had a dream that I couldn't recall when I woke up. But a persistent feeling overwhelmed me. I had given it thought months ago and then quickly dismissed it. I decided that a part of my heart, the part that won't allow me to become attached to someone new, was still struggling with the fact that J had hurt me and I never felt it was resolved. I woke up and decided that I had to write him a letter, one last letter-just to tell him how I felt. The feeling was so strong, that I knew it was something I'd follow through on. I briefly wondered what had possessed me. After all, J and I hadn't spoken in ... I couldn't remember how long.
As I was going about the dredgery of an ordinary work day, I saw a face appear in my doorway with a smile. It was him.
"Wanna go to lunch?" he asked me. I didn't even give it a second thought before replying. I gathered my things, ushered a client out of my office, and that's when my heart lept into my throat. He never asked me to lunch; something was going on. The only time he ever seemed to want to see me these days was when there was some incredible news to share. This is it, I thought to myself. They are going to get married.
Strangely, it wasn't the thought of them getting married that bothered me as much as his big production about telling me things like that. He'd never just come out and tell me; it was as if he always had to break the news to me gently-as if the world was coming to an end. But I realize now, that's just the way he is and always has been. But I was wrong about what he had to tell me ... I just didn't know it yet.
We walked to his car, and I could still feel that something between us. I had just begun to feel normal again, and he had to come around.
We had lunch together, talking about our lives and the people in them as if it were only a few days since we last spoke and not the truth of it which was like an ocean between us; so much had happened, so much that we couldn't change or take back.
His girlfriend is due soon. I know the name of the baby; I know so many things I shouldn't know. But that's the trouble when you work in a place that's like a family. The news comes and goes and spreads like a fire. At one time, he and I had been careful to hide our relationship in fear that, if found out, it could look bad for both our careers. Supervisors don't usually date peons. But I didn't really care about it as much as he did. For all the care we took, people still knew. So now that they have been surprised with the news that he has another girlfriend and she's pregant, there seems to be no end to their constant inquiries... it's as if his life and all the dirty laundry between us is on display. People can't understand what went wrong between us and I don't really have an answer to give them.
I was nervous during lunch-waiting for the ball to drop-waiting for the news he had come to bring to me to be brought up. And before I was even prepared, I blurted out, "Have you come to tell me you're getting married?"
"No." He looked at me strangely.
"The thing is ..." he paused, and then in a hushed tone said, "Well, the thing is, I really miss you."
I felt as though my heart stopped beating.
"And I'd really like you to be able to come over when you want to. I really want us to be friends. And I think that she is finally coming around to the idea."
Friends? Who was he kidding. We weren't friends. We were no more friends than we were acquainted with each other. It was as if two strangers were sitting together having lunch ... and yet, there it was, still that connection that lingered between us.
Even though so much time had passed, he could still feel my thoughts and read my expressions. My face and expressions were an open book and our minds, still more alike than I realized or cared to admit.
The truth was, whether I cared to admit it or not, there was something still hanging between us--a silent question that lingered in the dark distance that had grown yet somehow shackled us together all at the same time: could we still be friends?
I told him that I had decided that I didn't know if we could be friends-because I respected her and knew that she deserved to feel safe and secure in their relationship. But when he told me he missed me, I wanted to crawl back into his arms and tell him everything was going to be all right.
But I was torn. Here we were, months later, closing doors that were still left open. I know now that we purposely left them open because somewhere, deep in our hearts, we still love each other. Of course our love could no longer be realized. She was pregnant and I have moved on. A lot has changed and yet little. This was the time when we would have to make a decision on whether or not we closed the door forever and became friends, or left it open, and struggled on for years with unsettled feelings.
I think we both knew the answer; I told him that his friendship was important to me, even though I had already told him that I would give it up in a heartbeat if it made her uspet.
Closing that door means that we can never go back. He told me that too, over lunch. "I can't go back and think about what if's or different decisions I could have made," he said. "I simply have to deal with what I have in front of me and work it out."
It was one of the most intelligent and level-headed things I had ever heard him say. Yet I knew that I couldn't close that door to our relationship without telling him how it all had affected me.
I told him, very briefly, that he had really hurt my self esteem and I told him how I felt as though he abandoned me when I needed him the most. I let out all of the hurt I had harboured these past two years with as little emotion and as much ease as I could.
Normally, my telling him these things would have resulted in anger, defensiveness, and an abrupt end to our lunch. But for the first time, he met my words with integrity, honesty, and apology. He apologized and told me, "It was not your fault. It was never about you. I want you to know that. It was me. It was my fault; it was my bad." He didn't get angry or defensive and I could see a change in him. But telling him how I felt, and by him saying what he did, it was as if an unspoken fog had lifted and our hearts could finally be free. He had felt guilt that needed to be resolved and my heart needed closure and acceptance. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly.
To put it mildly, it was like a miracle. I wish I could describe it better and truly do it justice. It was as if God was closing up all the loose ends of my life so that I could move on to something else.
We ended our lunch in peace and friendship, having closed the door on our relationship forever. While it almost seems easier for me to have a reason to hate him, I feel as though everything is going to be okay; he is forgiven for everything. We can now move on and get back to being friends again. But one thing will never change--I will always love him and love what we had for that short time.
I think that love just is what it is. It doesn't always have a reason or a meaning or a deeper truth. You can't always help who you love. God puts people in your life for a moment or a lifetime and you just have to enjoy them while they are with you and around you. I know now that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Because now I have the idea of someone, the idea of love, the idea of taking this life and making my next relationship into something great. For a moment, I got to love and be a part of something great.
The best thing is, I have learned to trust again. I have learned to give again, without expecting something in return. I have learned that there is a reason for things, you just have to discover what that is.
There were so many things about J that I loved. The things I loved the most were things that I can still enjoy in our friendship. The only thing I still am searching for is that connection ... and I won't settle for any less in someone else.
So I don't know how to end this blog ... few of us get the kind of closure that we need to feel better. It took two years for me to get it and perhaps, at last, I can sleep.
