Crazy What You Could’ve Had

I’m done. I’m done.
I’m going to try to be done.
But I need to be done.

…..I don’t want to be done….

But I’m done. I think I’m done.
I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I’m going to try.

Almost five and a half years of being a rock. Steady and patient. Devoted and keen. Empowered, enlightened, and grateful; I cannot be a rock any longer. My heart has atrophied.

So much has changed! With her, I mean.
But I have all these words saved with me that I can read over and over again, to remind me of what once was the ultimate kind of love and connection.

Then I wonder, what is love without background; without history and time behind it? True, we had unspeakable chemistry and I believe the forces of nature were putting all their effort into making us find and be together. But there’s something to be said about the time two people spend with each other that gives that relationship substance you cannot otherwise have with someone you just met. It gives real meaning to loving someone. So I have to wonder.

And without any explanation (and PLENTY of attempts at obtaining one), she’s ignored me for almost a year. Is this her way of giving me a hint? I don’t take hints very well. I like pure, unadulterated honesty. I’ve said time and time again to tell me to go away the moment you don’t want me in your life anymore. That doesn’t happen, so I go on believing I am still wanted.   But going through a major, somewhat risky surgery without a peep? One that was only a 2 hour drive from her home?  And then, being here in town with nothing to do and purposefully, with intent, did not contact me?  This is big-time rejection, more than I’d expect from even the most casual of acquaintances.  Hell, I even got “Get Well Soon” wishes from people I’ve never even spoken to!

It matters no more. The explanation for this silent treatment is what *I* needed to move on. Obviously, it’s not what she feels she needs to give me — and I can’t keep hanging on to that, giving me another excuse to keep this door cracked, letting the hope continue to seep in.

I don’t exactly know how I’m going to do this.
I have some ideas, which my chances of success are questionable, but we’ll see.  Either way, I’m done.

Really.

Door is closed.