The best way to get over someone is to get angry. Make a list of things about them you don’t like and read it…repeatedly. Tell nobility and maturity to go fuck themselves and include every little detail about their personality and their looks that irks you.
And then read it, read it, read it and read it again.
The goal is to turn that mental image you have of them into a monster. Make it into something dark, ugly and nasty. Cover up the good and forget the things that changed you from a person to a couple.
I never wanted to do that with her. I never wanted to look back and think that I had made a huge mistake or had wasted a big part of my life spending time with someone who wasn’t right, good or healthy for me.
For a long time I tried to avoid going there. Initially it was because I didn’t believe that she could walk away and keep walking. I didn’t believe that someone could do that.
Intellectually I understood that someone could and that people did but that was something that happened to others and not to us. I thought that she needed time. Figured that with so many other things going on in her life it made sense to let her walk.
That is not to say that I didn’t fight it because I did. I didn’t just let go or give up but at some point I backed off a bit and gave her the space she said she wanted. Backed off and waited for her to be ready to come back and then she didn’t.
She didn’t come back and I realized that something awful had happened. Realized that one of the great fears of my life had materialized and wondered what the fuck I was supposed to do.
The things we did, said and shared were too real, too powerful and too big a part of me to think that it could really be over.
I kept waiting and wondering. After a while I tried to bring her back but she wouldn’t come. Wouldn’t listen or have any part of what I was saying. Instead she fed me venom and bile and told me that I was an idiot.
It was so very hard but I took the abuse because I had promised to be her hero and figured that she needed someone that she could unload upon. I was safe. It was ok to be more honest with me than anyone else. That was how it had worked in the past.
The hero was ready to dance in the fire and I was capable of doing that dance for her. So I took the abuse that she heaped upon me and wondered if she understood that no other could get away with this. Wondered if she understood that I didn’t do so out of weakness but love.
I took her pain because I loved her and I wanted to protect her. Took it because I was devoted and I wanted her to feel that devotion.
But after a while it seemed like it didn’t matter what I did. After a while it seemed like she had moved on and so I decided that I needed to move on to. I have an enormous capacity for dealing with pain and infinite patience for those I love but this seemed to be a zero sum game.
This seemed to be nothing more than an exercise in pain and I decided that I had given it enough time. It was time to walk and so I did.
I walked and kept on walking. Won’t lie and say that I never looked back because I did. Won’t lie and say that I never listened for her to call my name because I did. But she didn’t look and she didn’t call.
She didn’t do anything to make me believe that she missed me. She didn’t do anything to make me believe that she still loved me. And when you added a new man in to the mix I finally became angry.
And that anger made me move as it hadn’t before. Even though I couldn’t think of her being a bitch I managed to build a new fire in my belly. Even though I couldn’t think of her without remembering how smart and pretty she was I managed to start building a wall.
But all this time later I find myself being forced to face my fear. All these years later I find myself wondering if I ever stopped loving her and I fear the answer is no.
I fear that I have a fire in burning in my belly for a woman who might not feel the same. I guarantee that she remembers me and I guarantee that my name brings the occasional smile to her face but beyond that I cannot say.
So I find myself wondering what I am to do about this. Do I write her a letter, call her on the phone or show up at the grocery store. What do I do and what do I say.
Am I supposed to be nonchalant. Do I try to play it cool or do I go with my instinct to be a bit more aggressive.
It sounds ridiculous but there is a piece of me that wants to stand in front of her and call for an accounting. There is a piece of me that wants to walk up and kiss her. There is a piece of me that wants to write a letter saying that I know she is in desperate need of my affection.
She very well might reject me. A thousand years ago when I was single one of my female friends said that sometimes women reject men to see how hard they are willing to work for them.
We aren’t twenty somethings any more. Does that still apply or have things changed. The guys tell me that dating now is much easier and that women our age are interested in physical contact as much as we are.
I am tempted to write her a letter and dare her to prove that I won’t need to use Viagra with her. Except part of me is afraid that she’ll read that and assume that I have some sort of erectile dysfunction and I definitely don’t want to give off that impression.
Maybe I should temper the letter with some sort of humor. “I have been with 145 women but only 100 of them were able to satisfy me. How would you like to prove that you still can.”
Something tells me that I would be better off calling out of the blue and asking for a blow job than using that last idea.
Ugh. I don’t know what to do. I am not sure that I can ignore this but I am afraid to put myself out there with her again. There is a reason why I shut down that part of my heart and closed off the portion of my soul she used to have access to.
I finally decided to set aside the question of what to do and went to the store. Man can’t make big decisions on an empty stomach. So I picked up a steak, some napkins and played the lotto.
Picked the following numbers 8, 31, 68, 59, and 69. Given a chance I think that combination could work.