Catastrophe averted; pathos remains

So I broke it off with "fine" guy. Which was a fine thing to do. But I almost e-mailed John. I was totally tipsy and claiming in my head I wanted 'closure,' as if silence for a year wasn't closure enough. (John and I drank quite a bit together, and I don't drink that often, so somehow, it both reminded me of him and lowered my intellectual reasoning.) I told myself I wanted him to say "I'm sorry I hurt you" and "I'm doing well--I'm engaged and I hope you're well too."

But that isn't what I actually wanted (although it would be good to hear he was engaged or married; it would actually be very good).

Here's the thing I hate to admit. I still love him. And I still want him. I broke up with "Fine" guy because every time we were together I'd get slightly bored and remember how much fun I had with John.

I wanted to write John and have him write and say "I'm sorry--letting you go was a mistake. I still think of you. I still care for you. I'm sorry I hurt you. You know how messed up my life was at that moment, but I've survived that. Let's try to make this work."

I know he's just not that into me. Intellectually. But I don't believe that in my heart. I can't believe he would give me the time, the intimacy, the sharing if he didn't connect with me on some level he couldn't articulate.

I have to believe that he saw that his ambivalence was too hurtful to me and he disappeared because I said, on several occasions, that being a friend cost me. I don't know if he understood why--that it made me feel like there was something so deeply wrong with me and it reinforced that insecurity and it took all my energy for possible romance. Not that it still isn't wrapped up in that.

And, frankly, I should have moved on by now. This is almost stalkerish. (Given that I'm not stalking--a friend drove by his apartment 2 weeks ago--she didn't know where he lived--we were coming back from a roadtrip and she was taking a through avenue to my place--and I twitched, like I'd broken a rule, as if I'm not allowed to be in a car that someone else is driving on the somewhat busy street where he leaves). There's a restaurant a block from him that I used to go to all the time before I met him, and I've only been once in the last year, and that was with a friend who wanted to go there. So I'm not stalking in any real sense of the word.) But emotionally, I still have more of my energy there than makes sense.

I guess I was hoping if I did what I was supposed to do, my heart would do what she was supposed to as well. It's funny. I've had a 9-month fling this year (although I didn't realize it was a fling going into it). I tried acid. In Amsterdam (it is a good place for sin--even if Acid isn't legal, it is fairly easy to find, and I figured I could play the dumb tourist if I got caught). I had a sort-of one-night stand in a youth hostel in Amsterdam (no intercourse--just fooling around and mutual masturbation). I've actually lived quite a bit this year. Acid was fun! I really enjoyed it! I would totally do that again. I've changed in some ways. Why can't I cut this one string?

But then John touched me deeply. More deeply than any man ever has. And so his imprint remains until someone else touches me equally deeply. I made a searing, soul-connection with someone on a romantic level. Perhaps my only fault is settling for men who didn't touch me like that. But you can't order those up with some brown rice and a fortune cookie.

But maybe if I honestly acknowledge what I'm feeling, I can move through it more quickly than if I pretend.