Broken Bella Donna

{January 26, 2017}  

Sometimes, quite out of the blue I am struck by the most intense longing to see you. Tonight, right now is one of those times.

Such a need. I want to see you… to just spend time. Watch you. Hear your voice. Touch you – not sexually but just to feel that human contact. Just to make that connection with you so that I know that you’re still there. That we’re still here. That regardless of everything that has happened, is happening and will happen that we are still us.

Missing you isn’t even something I feel anymore – it just is. It’s a permanent thing in my life now. I don’t notice anymore, not because it isn’t there but because it isn’t ever not there. I realise now that you’re not the first person that I feel this way about. You’re probably the second, and the first I haven’t seen for fifteen years now.

Missing you in my life is like a dull ache that you don’t even notice anymore, except for those brief interludes in life where it’s gone and you realise how much happier and better you feel. Which is great – for a short time – until the pain is back and your attention is once again bought to it, and you remember.

We will never know where this could’ve gone. We will never understand the extent of everything, because we can’t communicate with each other- not fully. I feel like we can’t, because if we tried to, and we did… everything would implode. There will always be those things left unsaid.

I said one of those things recently. I genuinely felt like you already knew. You genuinely expressed that you did not. I would love to know how this news has changed you, what you think, how you think. But I suspect I’ll never know.

Perhaps you’ll never talk to me again and then I’ll have an idea.

Six years. In those six years we’ve covered the whole gamut, haven’t we. We’ve met, we’ve been associates. We’ve gotten to know each other and flirted shamelessly, without concern – as friends. We both tumbled down the rabbit hole and collapsed down the bottom – first you, then I followed. Only one of us got up and dusted ourselves off, the other lay broken.

Tonight I feel a little heart sore, thinking about you. Missing what we had.

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