Living (and Blogging) While Drunk (or tipsy)

So John and I had it out tonight. I don’t think I meant to. But John, in his incredible exuberance, thinks I’m a wonderful photographer. Thinks I need to pony up a grand for professional grade equipment because I have a skill and talent beyond my point and shoot equipment, that became more obvious when I switched over to manual controls, and I need an SLR.

So, he wanted me to borrow his SLR for a week, which is a really nice of him. Lovely. But it somehow became a metaphor for something much greater than a camera:
“I don’t want what I can’t have. I’d rather be happy with what I have than see the limitations in detail.” And, nevertheless, he put his thousand-dollar camera around my neck and I put it back around his, saying “I don’t want to want what I can’t have.” And we both knew what I meant. Somehow, the metaphor became crystal clear.

And so, it is over. The NY Times said they were doing research that could, eventually, lead to an anti-love potion. Which is what I need now.

Part of me wishes we could have a big fight. But I guess we had as big a fight as the two of us ever would. Because we both, in our own ways, love each other and wouldn’t want to hurt the other one. I don't think we would ever be cruel. Just both deeply hurt in our own ways.

I truly loved John. And I believed we matched each other. Truly matched each other, in intellect, in values, in temperament. Something was missing for him, if not for me. And there it is.

I can’t believe how many times I kept hoping against hope and all available evidence. Men like that don’t go for men like me. I know that. Women like me wait till menopause and then become lesbians. Men just aren’t interested in us. They like us as friends, as sisters, as one of the guys. But never as a woman. I wish I could find a pill to make a lesbian earlier.

"Patience isn't rejection" he kept saying. But someday, when it doesn't come to fruition, it is rejection. It is exactly rejection.

I expect John will find a woman with 40 iq points less than me. Who is cuter (and thinner) and less demanding. And that isn’t what he wants intellectually, and yet it is what he will be attracted to. There’s just something wrong with me, deep, deep down. Something flawed. I thought John loved me for what society views as flaws. And I know he absolutely valued me for them. But not love. I was never love material. Something was missing all the time, and he was just open to the idea it would change.

We both took busses home (we have a tendency to end our dates with drinks), going the opposite direction, and I came back from my stop, and watched him from across the street. He didn’t see me. I just kind of knew this was the last time I’d see him, and when he didn’t notice me watching him, I knew it more. And then this big semi-truck came, and it missed the light, so it just stayed there, and I thought “one more chance” but a bus came behind the semi. And John was gone. John was gone. John is gone. The most amazing man I’ve met in my life. And my closest friend at the moment.