Beginnings and Endings in On loves.
- Sept. 23, 2020, 5:11 a.m.
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- Public
I have a bunch of entries in my “drafts” folder, and tonight, I clicked on the first one. August 13, 2014, 3:26 a.m. I wrote it late at night, after my first date with now-ex-boyfriend. I don’t mention him until near the end of the entry, after I’ve talked about hooking up with a couple (“but not in a bisexual way,” I write—someone was still clearly in denial, haha), and with a guy who was 43:
“(43-year-old:) We have sex, and that’s permissible because I’m not that into him. He leaves early, while I’m still snuggled in his bed, folds up all my clothes on the dresser, texts me later. “Last night made me happy. I think we should get together ASAP.”
(ex-boyfriend, late-night drinks date:) There is an unremarkable lunch date today and then late-night drinks with another Harvard alum, only this one is 27, but he’s hilarious and he looks like James Marsden and I’m the one who says, ‘Welp, I should probably be getting home.’ We might go out again, or maybe we won’t.
(Tuesday Night Dinner Date:) I call Brian on the way home, tell him I’m coming to Oregon for a few days, say he can come hang out with my parents Sunday if he wants, and he throws a fit.”
It’s been six years since that first date, a year and a half since we broke up, six months since we last dated again, three and a half since we last had a conversation. Uusually, I am ok. But once a week or sometimes two nights in a row, I wake up in the middle of the night and it’s like I’m suddenly aware of the magnitude of that loss, how hollowed out I am. I don’t cry, but I’ll just lie there, eyes open in the darkness, and, I don’t know. It just sucks.
A Pedestrian Wandering ⋅ September 23, 2020
There is a contrast, in the world of draft entries there seems to be promise of engagements with others (good or bad) and you sample them and have a full relationship with one in particular. But in the present world, there is no more relationship and the prospects are few (because of the disease). A normal person would definitely feel hollowed out in comparing these two times side by side. It does suck, but nothing stays the same for long, it won't suck forever, WWGD? What would your grandmother do? Just curious.
Alice, Falling A Pedestrian Wandering ⋅ September 23, 2020
You're totally right about the pandemic world making things different...
WWGD? lol....she'd have been married 20 years ago :P
Thrice ⋅ October 22, 2020 (edited October 22, 2020)
Edited
:( numbing sadness - I am doing the same thing about the loss of my dream job right now. Not a human, probably not the same, but I keep reliving my first day, or driving down the street pretending I am on my way there, and constantly dreaming that they want me back. It sneaks up on me randomly in a day, and sometimes I cry. Mostly stare. It's like grieving the life before the aimlessness of now.