Monday, January 11, 2016

I hate Sundays

Sundays are hard for me. I got used to spending Sundays blanketed in warm affection and good conversation. While Sundays used to always seem to be too short, now they are much too long. For every minute I fill with mindless distraction, another dozen pop up. I started the morning feeling strong and confident, but now I find myself reaching out to the past again.

It's hard not to yearn for the warmth I once had.

In an attempt to distract myself, I re-watched the episode of The Office where Pam and Jim get married. It's one of my favorites and it always makes me feel sad in a happy way. The episode is just so sweet and I remember waiting for it for so long, that it is deeply satisfying in a way I never thought a television episode could be. Watching it tonight was an interesting experience though.

It made me realize that I had aimed too low.

The thing about Pam and Jim that always stood out was their connection. They just seemed to understand one another. They don't have everything in common and they don't have the same type of personalities, but they just seem to get it. No matter how crowded the room is, their eyes will always find one another. Small private smiles and jokes unsaid fill the spaces between them in a way that is just too damn sweet.

I want that.

And for a little while, I think I had that.

I haven't always been kind to the man who broke my heart in my posts. It's hard to find kindness when you are deeply deeply hurt. Even now, I want to remind myself of all the ugliness because it's just easier that way. It's hard to be honest and admit that your favorite person no longer wants to spend time with you. Or see you. Or even talk with you. It hurts in a very deep and simple way that is unbearable at times. There are just no words for the hurt. I didn't just lose a lover. I lost a friend. I lost camping trips and swimming in the summer. I lost the excited look on his face when he's teaching me something new. I'll never see the look on his face when he meets my mother and I'll never see the look on his mother's face when she meets me. I lost more than just a relationship. I lost cuddling on the couch and the taste of his lips. I lost the hope for better things. And it is really fucking hard.

He feels like home and tastes like magic.

Maybe it would simpler if I could convince myself I wouldn't have been happy. But I just can't. He told me he thought I had the potential to make someone really happy, but he just didn't think that was him. (Ouch.) I wish I could agree with that. It would easier if I did, but I just don't. I see nothing but happiness. The small things about him that bother me have been playing on repeat in my mind all week and still I can't let go. I see laughter and inside jokes and lazy Sundays so clearly. I could reach out and touch them if only he would let me.

But he won't.

So I am forced to carry the burden of that future alone. Maybe this is what I need so I will be able to try again with someone else. The problem is, I don't want someone else. I don't want that future with just anyone. The only reason I want it at all is because it's with him. That's what I can't seem to explain to people. He isn't irreplaceable. But that precious collection of future endeavors, it is. And so I take that fragile seed and I hide it deep within myself hoping beyond reason that maybe all my love and all the tears will manage to keep it alive.

It hurts to hope.

I am looking for a Pam and Jim kind of love and I won't settle for less.

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