i broke down in tears today when i talked about you to a friend. i still haven’t decided if it’s you, or the idea of you that i miss so much. i suppose it’s a little bit of both, but when i think about the reality of you. the future. i can’t think beyond our weekend together, and what it might be like just to have a few more of those weekend adventures but see other people. casual. friendly. just like us.
but it could be the sex? the ever-complicating factor that i’ve managed to avoid all these years to spare myself the heartbreak or the utter pain of having to fall in love? could it be that i’ve fallen under the spell of being under another? have i had love without sex? can you?
why have i been avoiding these things for so long? sex, love, relationships, men. why have i busied myself so much that i’ve rendered myself un-recognizeable to the hopeful, romantic young girl who wanted so much to fall in love and have a family? why have i pushed so much of what i want away, and attained what i never wanted to prove to myself that i can do it all. that i can be it all. be whoever i want, and not who i planned for.
there’s some truth in this weekend, some truth that has been long buried under the lies i tell myself to make it all ok. i need to hurt. i need to feel longing. i need to feel as though i need someone, i crave someone, that pushes me to get up off my fucking ass and do something about it.
you can’t force love. this i know. but i know that i am more awake, more alive than i have ever fucking been after a weekend away with a man i used to love.
could i love him again? maybe. but the better answer to the ever-present questions is yes.
i can.
and i will.
love again.
