and I miss ...

tasting marshmallows.

I miss ...

Kissing in the rain.
Rolling in the sand.
Getting naked under waterfalls.
Cuddling on the couch.
Talking in bed.
Watching you cook.
Long walks by the ocean.
Daylight rendevous.
You.

I'll be waiting

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVqkfV1WDDg&feature=related

God how I wish I could just send this link to you.

one year

Today.

All of the times you retreated, I followed you. You always said that if I'd waited long enough you'd have come out of your cave and found your way back to me, but I never waited long enough. I always beat you to it. This time, I've waited and waited for a whole year, but you never came.

With the softest of hearts, I surrender.

a novel

Until just some weeks ago, I haven't been able to listen to music, watch movies, or read books. It's enough that there are so many memories triggered by simple things - catching a bus, going to the supermarket, seeing an ad in the paper, a ferry trip. Music and movies and books are designed to evoke emotion, longing, memories, and I honestly haven't been able to face those until recently. I'm still not, truthfully, but I must keep focussing on the life ahead, so of late, I've tried.

I read a novel over the last week or so. So much of it broke my heart.

"This was love. The now and forever kind that up to this point she'd only read or dreamed about, hoping that one day it might happen to her, but with each passing year having less expectation that she would be one of the lucky ones. But, whatever happened now,  her life would never be the same. If she never saw him again she might go on to find happiness or sorrow, but she knew that life would never be complete away from this one man with whom she had fallen so desperately in love."

"She was wondering what he would think if she told him the truth, told him that he was the one man she would ever love. Would he laugh at her? Or be angry or embarassed?"

"To be rejected by him would be unbearable, so it would be better not to try. But not to try, to let her chance for supreme happiness slip through her fingers from fear of failure, would be even more unbearable."

And so you see why I haven't been able to listen to music, watch movies, or read books. Too many reminders of us.

You have my love x

did you

ever go to the cooking class? You know, the one I sent you for Christmas last year? I wonder. I hope so, I think you would have enjoyed it.

every day

for a year, I've thought of you (many times), missed you, loved you.

Every single day.

I wish you would tell me that you don't love me. I know you shouldn't have to tell me, it's pretty obvious, right. But I need to hear it because my heart doesn't want to let you go, and I don't want to go through another year like this. I don't even know if I can.

on Monday ...

... we'll have been broken up one year. I'm so sad. I'm planning to have a quiet, gentle weekend and to think a lot about where to from here.

I'll probably never understand why things have happened the way they have. It will probably always hurt. I'll probably always worry about you and wonder if you're OK. Maybe I'll just have to accept that this is the way it is, that I'll always wonder and worry.

And I'll always miss you. And I'll always wish things were different. I'll always love you.

actually

I wouldn't be giving anything up. Swapping the life I have now for a simple, happy life with you and the kids would be trading up. It would be magic.

what would I prefer

I'm away at the moment, at a work conference. Lots of inspiring thought leadership about the ways advancements in technology will impact customer service and dispute resolution. A big think tank with pretty dynamic people.

I'd rather be with you. I'd rather have a simple, contented life with my man (yep, you) and my family. I'd give up the work and the 'stuff' to be with you and have that life.

dating

Nope, not for me. Thought about it. Can't do it.

I shall keep my heart locked up and find other ways to fill in my time.

a lot of love

My heart's still all full up with love. Not sure what to do with it, to be honest.

It only has one home.

and ...

Will I ever hear from you again? Ever?

[God, imagine if I don't. Not ever? I'm not even sure how I would compute that.]

wondering

These are the questions that have been bouncing around in my mind today.

If I died tomorrow, would you be at peace with the way you've handled things since we broke up? Would you have any regrets? Would you wish you'd had more time and that you'd done things differently?

If we hadn't met the way we did, if you didn't get to learn about my heart and my spirit the way you did before you saw me in person, and we just happened to pass each other in the street one day, would you have found me attractive?

Did you ever know how much I loved (love) your hands? Big, strong, broad, powerful man hands. I miss them.

How did you stop loving me so quickly?

Why did you read my messages without telling me? Do you recognise that's not a very kind thing to do?

Would it surprise you to know I miss your Mum? We were just getting to know each other.

How do you feel about me these days? Indifferent? Repulsed? Frustrated? Amused? Annoyed? Something else?

Do you find my enduring love for you pathetic?

There's no pattern or rhythm. Some days my mind is just full of questions.

233 days

so 100 days was a little optimistic it seems :)

and in the meantime

if we can ever just talk, that would be wonderful.

I don't need to talk about us and what happened or what could happen. I just want to know you're OK and the kids are OK.

Writing here is a help still. Not as much as the emails with the little psychological trick I played on myself, but helpful still. I hope soon I can let go of the writing too.

the truth is ...

... I think, that if you're ever ready to come back to us, I'll still be here waiting for you.

crumbs

To be honest, it feels as though you've tossed me a crumb. Not a good feeling.

Lesson learnt - careful what I wish for :(

Getting that message from you has really stirred things up for me. I'm thinking, feeling, hoping, wondering, wanting again. I just have to ride it out I guess, until it passes. I keep imagining you sending me a message one day that says "can we talk?". I'd reply simply with "yes". Who knows, maybe one day ...

I haven't been able to listen to music since we broke up. I haven't listened to one song all the way through, not once. I've been places with music on in the background but I've mostly tuned it out, or just let it become white noise. Music is something so special I shared with you. I'm not sure if you felt that way about it, but I certainly did. And I haven't been able to listen to it because it hurt too much. I listened to one song all the way through today, and even sung along with it (badly, of course :))

We shared such stunning passion, or at least I believe we did. Do you believe we did? Or do you look back and see it as all a bit ordinary? I wonder.

was there ...

any feeling behind your message? I've thought about it a lot and I honestly can't tell.

when ...

... I got your message, my heart did skip a beat. And I wanted more. I wanted it to mean that the door's open and you're ready to reconnect with me - on any level. But you're not are you.

Your message was either an act of pity, or an act of kindness. Whatever it was, it's all that you're offering, isn't it.

Ouch.

giving up

I honestly think I'm so worn out from the last year, I just don't feel much anymore. I give up. No more hoping, wondering, wishing. No more fretting over what you think about me, or how I might have hurt you. I want some peace too.

of course

it doesn't change anything. I love you.

angry and hurt

Why would you do that? Why would you let me keep writing, thinking it was anonymous, 'speaking' freely because I thought I was safe, and all the time you were reading my messages? Do you never think you have something to apologise for? You should apologise for this. What was your motivation?

I'm hurt and humiliated. The things you read in my messages - I'd have shared any or all of them with you if we were still in a loving relationship. But we're not, so why would I want you to know those things about me, to have more reason to think poorly of me?

How am I supposed to make sense of this? At the end of August you sent me a message saying not to ever contact you again and that as usual I just did whatever I wanted to do. Saying that was mean and untrue but I accept that's how you feel. And then you read a month's worth of my online diary without telling me you had access to it (how could you do that?!), and then suddenly I get a kind and thoughtful happy birthday message from you.

I want to treasure that message. I want to believe it means you have a little bit of good feeling towards me. I want to feel happy about it - and I will, because  my natural instinct is to be grateful. But honestly, knowing that you were reading my messages and didn't have the courtesy to tell me, knowing what prompted you to send my birthday message, it's hard to feel anything other than humiliated.

nice, but ...

When I was writing in my emails that it would be wonderful if you happened to contact me on my birthday, I never thought you would be reading them. I was hoping (in that tiny place in my heart that can't stop hoping), that you might contact me out of the blue. It's lovely that you did contact me, really, truly, just lovely. What an astonishing surprise and the nicest thing.

I wish it hadn't been in response to my emails though. I wish it had been a spontaneous, heartfelt thing, because you feel something for me.

It feels like you've taken pity on me. If you have, I don't need that. I have wanted your love and I've wanted your forgiveness. I've never wanted your pity. I hope you don't pity me. I've fought hard for us, for what I think is right, and for me - for me to make it through. I have a lot of strength and pride and while I would have given just about anything at times for some tenderness and kindness, I never want to be seen as a lost and weak soul that should be pitied and pandered to.

I don't think that was what you were doing, and I really hope it wasn't.

Even writing this is a reminder that I'm strong. Writing is excellent therapy for me, and I'm very grateful for that.

horribly, horribly embarassed

I'm pretty rattled right now. I've been 'writing to you' at an old email address of yours, which I thought was defunct from when you cancelled your internet. It had the impact of letting me feel like I was talking to you without actually imposing myself - my thoughts and feelings and questions - on you. Except I was, because it turns out you were getting the emails!!!

I can't even work out how you still have the email address. Surely when you cancelled your internet you lost the address? And I can't work out why you'd let me send messages for a whole month - pouring my heart out, saying things I would never say directly to you because you shouldn't be burdened with them - without saying something. You can't have been just deleting them otherwise you wouldn't have responded to one of them. I don't know what your motivation was, but I think maybe you owed it to me to tell me my private thoughts weren't so private.

Anyway, what's done is done. And I'm back here writing in a place that doesn't have quite the same impact on me, but will do. I don't have much to say anymore anyway, it seems. There's only so many times you can go over and over the same old ground. Even I'm getting tired of it.

What an odd two days. *Shrug.

I love you still x