I Tried

Last week I wrote this post (Circadian Rhythms). I said I wanted to feel like that again. I knew what I meant, but I had not properly expressed it, even to myself.  I knew what I wanted to achieve, but had not realized the implications.

When it became public knowledge that I was getting a divorce, a man I knew called and asked me to dinner. I declined because there was another man I could not stop thinking about. Earlier this week I called him back and accepted his dinner invitation. We went out tonight.
First dates are generally pretty awkward to begin with, almost unnatural. But tonight just felt wrong. I was initially excited at the prospect of moving on with things. I got all dressed up, bounced around, had coffee with Tanya earlier and couldn’t stop talking about it. But less than an hour through dinner and I didn’t want to be there. This isn’t what I wanted.
I wasn’t trying to move on with things, I was trying to recreate. I wanted to get dressed up, and go out, and have a good time, and talk and laugh, but not with this man. And I didn’t want to play pretend. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.
He was a very nice man, and under different circumstances, if I wasn’t stuck in a loop thinking about someone else, I would have probably had a very good time. He tried to create a lovely evening for me. He didn’t deserve to be nothing more than a placeholder for my imagination. And doing so would probably not be very good for me either.
We finished out the evening early. I thought about everything and I think this is the first time I actually came to terms with what happened with the one before. No, I don’t mean I am delusional and and can’t grasp reality. I just think this is the first time I actually allowed myself to think about him.  I was afraid to cry, to really feel the hurt. I tried to bury it in distractions (that generally work well for me), without thinking about why I felt the way I did.
The simple explanation was that I loved him, and missed him. Well, yes. But I can’t stop thinking about him because I trusted him. He was the first man in many years that I opened up to and trusted. He never judged me (I can’t attest to what he was thinking, but he never openly chided or scorned me). He never made me feel like there was something wrong with me. He never tried changing me. So I trusted him.
We knew what the other was like, and when we would spend hours looking into each other, there was the delightful and also the unpleasant, but neither of us seemed to care. So I trusted him. I opened up and let him see. I showed him the inner workings of my mind, and let him watch me tinker. I showed him the part of my humor that others disdain. I began opening up to him physically. He never judged me for any of that.
And when I looked into him I saw many things, some of which he may have liked to keep well hidden, but I didn’t care.
It was those moments that I missed, and then repressed. Those were the moments I wanted to recreate, but can’t.  I was comfortable and happy.
Tonight I realized that the void I am trying to fill cannot at this time be filled. He never meant to hurt me, even in the end. I don’t think he would have ever done anything to to purposely hurt me.  No one can ever change the way they feel, and he simply acted on his feelings. I cannot blame him for that, nor did I stop trusting him because of it. When he left I thought that maybe, even though he didn’t try to change me, there was something so horrid about me, or something I did, or said, that drove him away. I finally realized that, well, maybe there was, maybe I did do or say something, but maybe not. Sometimes you just stop wanting someone. Sometimes circumstances get in the way. Maybe I am trying to make myself feel better.
But my problem isn’t so much that I miss him, but something outside of him completely. I have no desire to trust another. Tonight I did not have the slightest wont to open up.
I sat there, waiting until a decent amount of time passed and I could go home. To be fair, it was not a bad evening. Conversation was good, the venue was very ambient, and the man treated me kindly. It could have been better, but that is my problem, not his.
Obviously I have no intention of doing this again soon, but to make matters worse, a little over an hour after I got home he called to let me know he had a great time and would like to see me again. He hadn’t actually expected me to answer my phone and he was going to leave a voicemail. When I picked up he got frazzled and it made the whole thing more awkward. I should not have answered. Seriously, can I do anything right? I politely declined, told him how I misjudged things, and it is too soon after the decision to divorce, and my kids would be too confused, and, and, and…. And now I feel like a total bitch *and* a liar… and he didn’t deserve either.
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