I cried

I cried today over something...over nothing...over something that mattered once upon a time. I chose carefully not to sit directly across from him. She chose to sit across. I don't view her a threat because no one ever is and truthfully, I don't want him anymore. He jokingly quipped to her that if she were part American Indian, he'd marry her tomorrow...and then he looked at me.

He expected a reaction; there was none. Perhaps he thought that there was still love; there is not. But what I have is the sadness that he wasn't the one. I spent eight years of my life in love with him. It isn't the sadness of the memories of how much I wished that it were forever...but more the sadness of the memories of the moments when I knew that it wasn't.

In fact I haven't forgotten any of the details at all. Time doesn't heal those wounds. And when I think that I'm OK; that it IS OK, I watch a shift in his body language or his interest in another woman even if it is just a momentary joke. I know him well enough to know that is the beginning of a peaked interest. I don't care really because when it comes down to it, I wouldn't say yes to him today anyway..but it's been a lot of years, and the pain of him doesn't go away just when I think that it did.

I read the psychology today article on highly sensitive individuals today. I didn't learn anything that I didn't know; that I didn't feel through the every day torment of being one. It's on 'system overload' all day, every day and no amount of quiet is quiet enough to satiate and bring back a balance in that equilibrium of being able to feel rested and ready to move forward without the clutter of the outside world. Case and point: last summer, someone who doesn't live on my street but the next street over decided that he likes parking his corvette here instead of there...and his favorite thing to do with car is to rev up the engine...so he does. He lets it idle inordinate amounts of time before and after he shuts off the engine...it disturbs my quiet...it pisses me off. He doesn't belong here...go away...today...and don't come back....but he did...after being gone all winter, two days ago. So once again, when it's warm enough to want to open my windows and have soft breeze wafting though, I'm woken up by the external noise and my day is filled with ruminating anger...you don't belong here and I don't want to be disturbed...ever.

But, he bought me dinner last Monday night; I had a kiss hello on the lips. I wiped my lip gloss off of him with my thumb...he started this morning enthusiastically happy to see me; I turned my back toward him as I passed; I sat catty cornered to him. It's good to see him; it's good to be in his company. Every part of him is like coming home but I can't forget those moments of pain and when I try for just a moment I remember that I can't let myself be vulnerable to him, so I give every outward appearance of being neutral...Cathy told me that she thought he was playing games with me; I don't believe that he is; but he looked for a reaction so I have to wonder if he was afraid of further hurting me...I don't think that's possible. He's the one hurt that I've never gotten past. There is no anger; and there's no romantic love it's just a wound that never heals...

He tried on Saturday in quiet conversation selling me on his lesser qualities ; how he's always a mess, he's a weird guy; he didn't have to. It's not the way that it was; I haven't forgotten a moment of it. It's hard to be with him; but yes, I'll see him tomorrow night.