I wonder how long I am going to pine for someone who didn’t really exist except in my imagination. How long am I going to miss a person that doesn’t miss me?
It seems like every milestone brings up this grief and sense of loss. I took my child to school for the first time. It went well and there’s no reason to be sad.
Except I am missing someone now. But not a biological relative who has passed on or lives somewhere we can’t easily reach. Instead I miss someone who would rather imagine my life than keep in touch to learn the reality.
Of course, it’s my own fault this person isn’t in my life. It’s my own fault my heart aches so terribly right now. That is what happens when people date people who not that into them. The people who don’t care are fine and don’t even have to “move on” so much as just quit. Even forgetting is easy for them.
I don’t even have a perfectly sound explanation for why I care so much. I do know this person is more comforting to me than my parents or anyone else I dated. I felt safe then in a deep sense when he held me in a period were little felt alright. Perhaps he was the person I was most attached to in my life. Probably because I met him at an incredibly wounded and vulnerable time in my life and he didn’t regularly criticize me in a judgemental tone as I proceeded to fail at life.
But he didn’t “get” me either. He didn’t adore me or even prefer me to other pretty women. He just put up with me because of his own insecurities after his compassion got him in over his head.
I don’t know even how there could be a mutually positive conversation between us now or in the future. Unless I lie and keep to myself that I miss him and wanted to talk with him. Certainly impossible if I show any jealousy.
There’s a void and when I miss him, it represents that void. He somewhat filled up that void, but it wasn’t quite enough and it didn’t last. Even when I was with him, I felt desperate and depressed daily. I wanted someone who knew me to deeply love me. He barely knew me and he didn’t care much for me the better acquainted we became. He couldn’t give me a steady kind of love but apparently he came the closest experiences I have ever had.
It’s oddly painful to feel grief where before I met him there would have only been dull emptiness.
Perhaps missing him shows a really ugly side of me.