Why can't I stop loving this person? She never told me she loved me. Or more accurately, she never said "I love you." Either way, she never actually spoke or wrote the words "I love you."
She would sign cards, "Love ya" or "(heart symbol) you." And I felt like she did. But saying those three words took her out of her comfort zone.
Maybe she was guarded. Or maybe she was not looking for a relationship when we met, so her mindset remained temporary during our time together.
And in all fairness to her, I never actually said the words "I love you." I guess I was afraid of scaring her off. But I wrote them to her many times. And I told her how much she was loved, by me, and by others around her.
And I meant it from the deepest depths of my heart.
We haven't spoken in four months now. We haven't seen each other in seven months even though we only live a few miles apart. And I cannot get her out of my mind.
I am trying to understand the dynamic behind my inability to let her go. Just love and cherish the times you shared and don't stress, say my close friends and confidants that know my true feelings.
Oh, I only wish that it was that easy.
I am comforted by my assumption that others must experience the same feelings of loss and sadness. And heartbreak and heartache and... well you get the picture.
I know she is not dead, just gone. But in some ways the pain that I'm experiencing is worse than death.
How could I still feel this way about someone that I haven't seen in seven months?
It sounds ridiculous and it feels ridiculous. How could this person have such a tight grip on my heartstrings? And, more importantly, how do I break free?
Why does love have to be so complicated? I truly believe that we do not know exactly how intense our love and feelings are for someone until they are gone. That is precisely why telling them how you feel and telling them often is so very important.
There was never really any closure to the relationship. I hate using the word closure but it seems to be an appropriate representation of the situation. We just stopped talking. And it did not take long.
First, the phone calls began to get shorter and not as often. The text messages were soon to follow. Several messages a day became one or two a day. And then there were none.
Naturally, I backed off. I began not to call her as much and my texts, although the content was the same, became less frequent.
Then came my birthday. No call. No text. Closure, some would think. The answer I was looking for.
In two short (or long, very long!) weeks, we had gone from texting and talking everyday for a year and a half to nothing. And while I have my beliefs on our parting of ways, we have not talked since.
And for the sake of full disclosure, we are grown, divorced adults with children. So we are not new to relationships, or heartbreak. I am in my late thirties and she is in her early forties.
We are at two separate crossroads in our lives. Her children are grown. Mine are small. Her ex is remarried. Mine is crazy. And not remarried.
So obviously, these factors played a huge role in our breakup. I do not think she ever saw a real future for us as a couple. Another notch in the belt of the timing gods.
I treated her well, so maybe she stayed with me and returned and answered my calls and texts for a little longer than normal for that reason. We had great times whenever we were together. But the baggage, my baggage, was too much to overcome. But why did the end have to be so abrupt.
A major, unexpected life event involving her family may have changed the course of time as well. Maybe it wasn't her feelings that changed. Maybe it was the circumstances.
And we never really discussed the status of our relationship or our plans for the future, which undoubtedly delayed the inevitable. Communication is vital.
Looking back on it, I think she tried to start that conversation a couple of times and I was quick to dismiss the topic. I was afraid of what I might hear. But, as it turns out, I should have listened.
I have reached out to her a couple of times (like a fool, I am told). She will still return my texts, albeit in a short, but friendly manner. And I don't text her often.
She has even texted me a few times but the texts were subdued. And last month, foolishly enough, I asked if I could call her. And she said no.
What's even more foolish is that I want to write her now. Maybe to get even more closure, as if I need any more of that. No text or call on my birthday. And now, a direct "no" when I ask if she wants to talk for a few minutes. But who knows?
I am trying to talk myself out of writing what would be a desperate, sad attempt to convince her to change her mind by telling her how wonderful I think she is and how everyone in her life is so lucky to have her. And a myriad of other niceties and flattery and examples of how much fun we had together.
I would mean everything I said, but that would not make it any less sad or desperate.
I miss her. I miss her terribly. I miss our talks, our texts, our messages. I miss her smile. I don't think I have every truly missed someone this much.
I miss all of the laughing and singing and daytrips to the mountains. I miss hearing about her friends and family and her coworkers. And I miss all of their stories. I even miss people I have never met, just from our daily conversations.
And most of all I miss showing her how much I love and care about her.
My life is normal. In other words, I am not crazy! Although, I admit, I must sound this way.
I have not allowed my feelings to disrupt my daily routine. In fact, only a select few people even know that I am struggling. I am private person and writing is my outlet.
I am a full time father to my two children and they have not been disturbed by our separation. They have asked me why we do not talk anymore, but, for them, the transition has been seamless.
I am not clinically depressed. No, really, I'm not. I just sound like a sad sap. And feel like one inside. But outside I lead a very normal life. I know that many other people are in the same boat with me. Normal on the outside. Hurting on the inside. And I guess that company gives me comfort.
I ask myself the age old question, is it really better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? I am not so sure.
Some days are certainly better than others. I have even managed to make it through two or three week periods without anxiety. So I am not entirely crazy.
But just when you think that father time is working his magic and the worst is behind you, the inevitable happens.
She appears. And the feelings return. A wink from the heavens above.
The writing helps. The reasons become clearer. The loss becomes more understandable.
But I still yearn for the magic wand that would make everything okay. Restore the past. Back to normal overnight.
And then, from out of nowhere, it hits me. My enemy is control. And love is my best friend.
I spend too much time dreaming up ways to make her come back to me and to make her love me. But I cannot control her feelings. And I cannot control what she wants or does. I must learn to relinquish the control.
My job is only to love her unconditionally. Let her know my feelings. And then her actions are out of my control.
After all, love is what is really important.
I was good to her. I loved her. I showed her love and she felt my love.
Now I need to be happy for her. She deserves happiness.
My job is not to be selfish or jealous. Which are where my feelings often lead. Selfishness and jealousy are destructive traits that only lead to more misery. They aim to kill.
Love, on the other hand, never gives up.
But I have to let go.
My job is to love her. And I will always love her.