Yeah, I still think of him often...but it's different...

Well, it's been a while since I've broken down into tears over the break-up. I've gotten teary-eyed thinking about things a couple of times in the last couple of weeks, but not even that in the last week or more. I'm no longer always thinking of it, of him, wondering what we could have been, wondering what he thinks of me or how he sees our short relationship, whether we'll ever talk again, whether we'll be friends in some way or come together again in a fantasy love story in the future.

But it's not all settled yet. The last week or two, I've still felt an occasionally strong urge to contact him. To reach out just to touch base, to tell him how I feel about him, that I'm finally OK with things even if I wish they could have been different, that I miss him, that if he ever wants or needs someone to talk to, I'm here and have moved on enough that I don't think it would make things harder emotionally to talk, even if only to touch base, or even if only to part, for now, on less messy terms.

But then I've thought, "Why? What am I really looking for? Would I really be doing it for him or myself? Am I ready to hear, 'Please don't ever contact me again' if that's how he feels? I don't think I am, so that's probably an indication that I should wait. But I also would like to know where I stand with him rather than guess and wonder, even if it's only an occasional thought. So I guess contacting him might be more for me. But I really do want him to know I care, lest he think I don't. Who am I kidding? I always do that: try to make sure they know I care when I'm the only one who's at all distraught and am just projecting. Or is it that I just want him to know I wouldn't reject him if he tried to contact me? I wonder if he is open to contact but thinks I'm not because I said I needed to get over him and he needed to focus on his 'new direction' in life." Reminding myself to face the probability that he is not going through all of this or that he is the one who called it off and is the one who will decide when or if we'll re-initiate contact. Then I thought, "No, he's probably not even thinking about me anymore. Let's be honest, he probably remembers 'us' as a summer fling." "Shoot," I thought, "the fact that I even am thinking this way means I should probably wait." So I am.

I feel pretty "sobered up" from the whole thing, but I obviously still think of him, care about him, and appreciate his friendship, not just his affection. I more confidently realize I can find someone else at least as good for me, just as good a person, with traits he lacked even if lacking some he had. There will be others if I'm open to them. I'm not ready to start looking, for various reasons. But I'm mostly over the feeling that moving on now would be to disrespect what we had. I've accepted that I valued what we had, and if I thought I could revive it by making changes in my life, saying the right things to him, or sacrificing certain things, I am confident I would, but that doing things I think he would want or which I wish I had been better about doing or expressing while I was with him, in case he quietly drew conclusions I didn't realize he was drawing, simply won't change it. So I move on, look ahead, try to be who I believe I should be, and continue trying to become the kind of guy with whom I think a healthy person who would be good for me would want to form a lifetime companionship and future family. But knowing there's more and probably better ahead doesn't mean I'm glad to leave him behind.

Watching (mock me if you will, and let's be honest: some of you will) Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince last night, he came to mind during the scene where Ron is dazed in the infirmary and, in his delirium, asks for Hermione and not his little psycho-stalker girlfriend. I thought, "Ugh, I wonder if he thinks of me as the stupid girlfriend who thinks she's a part of his life but was just a passing fancy. I wish I were his Hermione. I felt that kind of bond with him, the desire to be there as a friend above all else. Great, I am the stupid girlfriend." Then I chuckled to myself, shrugged, and went back to enjoying the movie. We don't have years of history for me to be that tried-and-true friend, and he has other friends who are going down the path he wants, and they may build the friendships I wish I could have built with him. They're good people. We each have our own friends. So it goes with break-ups. Yet part of me wanted, last night, to contact him to say, "I want you to know that I will always love and care about you and wish we could be friends even without the romance, and I hope maybe we still can, if not now then someday. And if you don't agree, or do, just let me know, and we'll move on accordingly." But...for all the above reasons, doing that doesn't seem like the best idea, so I wait.

Yeah, I know that to some (many?) of you, this will sound like the ramblings of a lovestruck teenager getting over his (her?) first breakup. It's not that, but I can't prove that to you, so you'll believe what you want. I've gone through similar feelings to varying degrees with other friends, male and female, so I know this isn't unique to this kind of relationship. It's just intertwined with what were very intense feelings of bonding, romance, love, affection, whatever. It's not a huge thing, just a nearly automatic thought process that happens from time to time.

When I stop being all conflicted over it, that will be the time to contact him. ...or let it go. ...or something. It's funny: I've been through a few "break-ups" of different kinds, and they all share common threads and different situations, so I learn from each one to apply it to the next, wonder how much of what I'm feeling is "normal", how much is indicative of issues I should learn to resolve, how much is completely neurotic without my knowing it. Hopefully someone out there benefits from my ranting, and maybe some of you have input. Meh. I have Halloween festivities to attend to. Pardon me while I take off my angsty dumpee moho costume and put on my cider-making, game-playing uncle costume.



Side note: to commemorate Halloween, I added my last-year Halloween post to "Highlights from the past". Happy Halloween!