“Patience is a virtue. My body is aching. My memory is intact. I am happy.”
I was happy at the idea of a next one, of a new relationship at some point, I was happy and very okay with moving on. The Architect had been popping up in a number of my blogs and truth be told, this will most likely be the last.
After taking us a year to gather up the courage, albeit Dutch courage, to kiss each other…it would appear whatever was happening between the two of us has finally ended. But when I see him, when we’re at a place together, it’s like we can’t keep our eyes off each other. I catch him staring at me; and the only reason I see it is because I’m staring at him too…from across the bar, the dance floor, the room, wherever he is…that’s where my eyes are. I manage to crack a smile and then I don’t know what to do, so I look away, I turn away and I walk away. As I walk away I look into the face of his ex-girlfriend who always seems to find her fucking way to events he will be at and I can’t help but think that she is it. She is the reason. The reason I will never be given, the reason for his elusiveness and lack of comprehension.
I’m just too old to be playing these games man, I’ve told him before “I like you, and I know you like me…and I think we like each other enough to give this one more try”…my honesty seemed in vain, and it’s not something I do often…be honest about my feelings. But with him I was. But with him it never worked. And so this time with him the surrender is going to be somewhat different, it is not giving in to a desire, but giving up on one. Him. I’m giving up on him. I’ve decided this many times before though yet each time something makes me change my time…like the way he calls me “woman!” gets me every time. But it eventually all comes back to this, an inevitable ending, an inevitable ending without a reason.
It’s ironic though, him being an Architect. In a sense I needed someone to re-design me and build me up from the nothing that was left behind…he doesn’t even know that he’s done this, I wasn’t even aware that he was doing this. When I surrendered to him, that first time, he made me not want it from anyone else because he made me remember what it’s supposed to feel like. How I felt with him. How he behaved when he was with me. And nothing’s been the same since, nothing else has come close. No one else.
He will never know any of this, he will never know the impact he has made on my life. I will never tell him. Honesty doesn’t seem to work with him…and honestly, I don’t think he deserves to know. He doesn’t deserve a lot of my feelings. In hindsight. He never did. As I write this I feel bursts of anger at his cavalier attitude toward me, our situation, has he not being paying attention? Surely he cannot be that clueless? Perhaps he likes the vagueness of wonder & confusion. Perhaps LEAVING things open makes him more open to the idea of LEAVING. Clearly.
I will continue to stare at him though. My heart will continue to skip a few beats, smiling at the memory of what was, of what could have been.
*But I have no more memories wrapped up in him waiting to be unwrapped, our time has come and gone…twice. And there will be no third time’s a charm. There will be simply, nothing.