Sometimes I miss him.
Its this sad, gripping ache that shows up every now and again. It catches me at vulnerable times in my life now.
In dreams, where his eyes bore deep into mine- the place we can only be connected now- we say the things we feel without words.
Haunting each other as we move through the world.
It's a point of frustration for me.
Obviously, if we had fit together as well as is required of a committed relationship, we'd be together now.
While many things clicked and felt so right, the few things that didn't were/ are important enough to keep me from calling him now.
A phone number that only lives inside my head.
No letters to send him, because words fall short and empty now. They get me nowhere.
Sometimes I hate myself for thinking about him everyday. I do though. I miss him and parts of us, every single day. I work extra hard to remind myself then, of all of the things I don't miss. The struggles, the tears, the supreme frustration of losing myself and him.
I wonder if it will always be this way.
Will I ever meet another who affects me as deeply- someone who pales his memory in comparison?
It will be 3 years in next month, since we broke up so tragically. We tried again last year and it didn't get very far, much to my dismay, even going at a slower, wiser pace. I broke things off for good last August.
Haven't seen or heard from him since then.
I told him I did not want to stay in contact with him.
I felt that if he wasn't able to man up and choose me, then he didn't deserve me in any capacity.
I know that's right.
But you know what?
There is a part of me that waits for him...
to write the letter, to make the call.
But a broken man who struggles to make himself whole won't be writing or calling me anytime soon.
I know that.
I wait for him and the man who might come along to pick up where he left off.
*sigh*
Not sure which train will come first, if at all.
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