Love lost

Through the incessant dripping of the rain on the roof I heard her car pull up. Seconds later I heard the knock and knew that she would be coming in. While I had been waiting for this moment for 6 weeks I was now at a crux; it turns out I do not know whether I actually want to see her, my hurt was still too raw.

6 weeks ago we had broken up, though in hindsight I knew that it was not us actually breaking up, rather it was her hearing an excuse that allowed her to do what she wanted to do, sleep with some guy she had a crush on for years. 6 weeks ago we had a conversation that had decidedly different meanings for both of us. Somehow my drunken comments about "not being sure whether this would work" or whether it was "something I could keep doing" were taken by her as me ending our relationship and thus giving her free reign to do whatever (or more appropriately, whomever) she wanted.

That should have told me something; that instead of hearing my comments and wanting to know why, to fight to change my mind or prove that it was worth it, she would rather have just jumped into bed with another. But I have found that I have a hard time grasping the obvious when it comes to issues of the heart.

How had I gotten to this point? How was it that I was now much closer to 40 than 30 and still as befuddled about life and love as I was when I was 13? Perhaps it had to do with my innate trusting nature, I have always given people the benefit of the doubt, always fallen for the lies and the excuses. And while I do realize that my perspective on life and people has grown over the last 23 years, that I am not still some pimply faced boy embarrassed to say even two words to a pretty girl, I am still left to wonder how or why it is that my heart has not yet caught up with my brain (or, more accurately, why my brain is still so heavily influenced by my heart).

The collapse of this relationship, especially with the way it played out, reinforced for me everything I had feared. I was little more than a distraction, a play toy to be used or discarded whenever she saw fit. Though I don't doubt the emotions behind the professed love, I was now left to wonder the actual depths her heart actually held, and for how long I had been cascading down the ladder of things important to her.

6 weeks ago she had broken my heart and then just vanished, barely to be seen or heard from again save for a random phone call or text. And though I know my anger, hurt and sadness did not help, I have a hard time fathoming that someone who actually cared would not push through the verbal tirades, if only to prove that they did indeed care.

But, in the end, I suppose this could just be karma coming around and kicking me in the ass. For as much as I have been hurt by this relationship, I cannot help but be reminded that my last relationship was, at least loosely, the other side of the same coin.

Before the girl now idling her car in vacant spot she parked in for 3 months, I had broken the heart of an incredible girl because I knew a deeper and more painful heartbreak lurked down the road. And though I tried to explain the why of my decision behind breaking this poor girl's heart, that it made more sense to me to end something I knew was not not going to work out, words are just that, words.

But I tried anyways. And though explaining this to her, much less to others, was incredibly difficult, I knew it had to be done, and assumed that this was a normal thing. I am now reminded that what is normal for one is plaid pants and a striped shirt for another.

Who knows, maybe it was because I started this last relationship within a month of ending my previous one, or maybe it is just me grasping at something, anything, to understand it, but I cannot help but picture some long dead Buddhist monk chuckling slightly at my expense.

But then, I did it to myself. I knew a year ago that this girl was still holding on to the ideal of a man she revered so naively and I (even more naively) thought that I would just enjoy the moment. I saw this as a chance to enjoy life a bit, and thought that I had done a great job of keeping myself protected.

But the heart doesn't always work in synchronicity with the brain, in fact, it is a rarity when they do (at least with me). No matter how hard I attempt to avoid it, a level of emotional connection to someone I spend endless hours with is impossible for me to bypass, much less suppress. Turns out not everyone is like me.

And so I sit on the couch and listen as she enters my house for the third time in six weeks. I am finally past much of the hurt and anger and wait here hoping I can just sit and listen; that during this conversation I can grasp some better understanding of what happened and, from there, find a better way to move on.