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Thursday, November 17

Holding on while letting go.

Full disclosure: I would not be posting this if I were not PMSing. But I am, so here we are.

I think about human connection. Our connection. Late night conversations, aching hearts thudding loudly in our quiet rooms, dealing with the distance that seemed to grow, not shrink, with time. The excitement of being in the same place, your knuckles knocking on my door at 8:13, your shoes coming off at 8:14, and your lips against my lips, bare skin pressing with urgency by 8:16. The pain of parting a mere fourteen and a half hours later, tears shed, bravery feigned, one last look and then gone. Both of us sitting in the dark, me in my room, you in your car, thinking that this was leading to something greater. Something easier and more free. 

It was an accumulation of moments, of care, of love, building up to a moment when goodbyes would not be dreaded, and nights would not be spent alone. When, awakened by a nightmare, I would be comforted by the closeness of your flesh and your warm, steady fingers. It was these thoughts, this tentative promise of a future, that held us together, bound us to each other in an idealistic and all-trusting love. We were headed down a path, side by side and moving forward, waiting for a day when it would be easier. It would all be easier.

 But it didn't get easier. The path that we were walking on was not one that would bring us together, but allow us to fall apart. It turns out that every painful goodbye was not leading to a time when we would no longer have to part, but rather to a time when we would no longer meet. When we would no longer care to meet, or talk, or even inquire vaguely about each other through social media.

I don't regret that we parted. It might be me synthesizing my happiness, as us humans are apt to do, but it seems inevitable now. But I do regret how we parted. The confusion, abruptness, and lack of communication throughout the whole thing. We were together. Even when we were apart, we were together. And now, we could stand side-by-side, shoulders touching, and we would be so far apart. 

I do not think we will talk again. And I think about all those moments, all those beautiful moments and years, and I wonder it was for. Piled on top of each other, all those moments, all those whispered words of intimacy and care were leading up to this -- this attempt to remember and hold on to the goodness and beauty of the four years that we shared before it disappears altogether.

Someday, I'm sure, I will hear about you getting married, maybe having kids, maybe not. And I will feel a distant pang in my chest, a faint sadness in my mind. And then I will shake it off and shrug my shoulders slightly, taking a deep breath before moving on with my day. Because, really, you are just somebody, like so many others, who I used to know.


Anonymous said...

I don't know you but I found your blog through your tumblr. I've been going through a hard time with a break up and I've been reading your blog for the past hour, and you write every word that I am feeling without knowing me. I can't even say the things that you say.

Your break up seems harder then mine because my ex has been pretty nice about everything. He's been really patient but it's still so hard and reading your blog makes me feel so much less alone.

I just thought you should know your pain has helped me. Thanksu for sharing your experience. Im following you on tumblr and have you bookmarked.


S. Kahlon said...

Thank you, Teresa!

You actually aren't the first person to express such sentiments, and it really touches me to, first off, know that you are going through the pain that I went through so recently, and that, secondly, I am helping in any way.

I am glad that your boyfriend is being patient and respectful of the love that you two shared, the love that I'm sure you still feel.

Feel free to email/message me on tumblr. So many people extended their hands to me in my time of need. I would love to be able to do the same for you.