Letter to Someone

I still think of you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. Sometimes it sneaks up on me in the night, sometimes in the unexpected bright light of day. It shouldn’t matter anymore, you know. You don’t belong here now. And yet sometimes, there you still are.

Sometimes I let myself daydream about what might have happened. If everything were different, if it had worked out. If we were a we instead of just you and me. But you and me, we’re not those things. We are nothing instead. Sometimes that still makes me sad.

I thought about visiting you. About popping up in your life. About seeing what might happen if we saw each other again. I considered it. I still know how to find you, you know. But I won’t. I understand now. I understand that it was never going to be. I understand that there was nothing I could have said or done. I understand that that ending, that thing I never comprehended… it was always going to be. You told me it wasn’t, but I know you weren’t honest. I bet you know it too. But I’ll never ask.

I wonder if you still think of me too. But these days I am sure you don’t. The time that has passed tells me that. There are no thoughts left for me. There never were. Each increment of time whispers it to my subconscious. You never really wanted me. The hard truth. And yet, there it is… the lesson time has taught. You never really wanted me.

Otherwise, things would be different. But they are not.

-Jane

Note - This letter could be to any number of people. I will admit it was inspired in my mind this morning by one, but is not meant as direct communication to anyone.

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It’s Over

It is time for a confession.

I have an incredible soft spot for anyone who can sing. Looks are secondary, personality is even somewhat secondary. Just….. sing to me.

Having said that, you will still surely judge me for this next confession. Still, I can’t help myself. It’s true. And since you don’t actually know who I am, I feel safe telling you this.

Once upon a time, in a far away place….. Clay Aiken was my secret boyfriend. So secret in fact, that he was unaware of the situation. We were happy for a time you see. Until tonight.

Dude is in Spamalot. And he’s BLONDE. Our relationship had its ups and downs, and we’d been struggling lately since he’d been so quiet. But after this revelation, I had to break up with him. I’m sorry to say, he may never recover.

In fact, I predict he will turn to men now, as I have clearly ruined him for all other women. That is all.

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So we hope

You what what the worst thing is? When you know something in advance, see it coming, and still let it happen. When you stare a situation in the eye and know it will end badly, but you still don’t get out. When you make the stupid mistake anyway. And why did you do it? Hope. Hope is the most damning emotion and a One Date Wonder’s worst enemy every time.

I met a good guy. One who wanted a long term relationship. One who spent the night. One who was very very different from me and what I usually look for. So I hoped. I hoped that opposites could complement each other. That I’d at least have the chance to find out. That dating is not always a laundry list of desirable qualities but more individuals meeting and meshing. I hoped that this good guy who spent the night might be something to hold onto.

Every good One Date Wonder knows that hope like that only leads to sadness. And so it was. First there was a fight that probably neither one of us could explain. He asked a question, I gave an answer that hit him wrong, suddenly he was grabbing his shoes and heading for the door. He yelled, I retreated. He shut the door behind him. I locked it, sat down, and cried. Not because I was so head over heels for him. Not because my heart was broken. Not because he was the love of my life. But because he was the first time I’d dared to hope in quite some time. And all it turned out to be was a reminder of why hope is the enemy.

The zombie guy is gone. He called tonight. He didn’t want me to feel bad. He didn’t know what the right thing to do was, but he was trying to do it. We are two very different people. He doesn’t know how that will work out in the long run. The truth is, he’s right. I know he’s right. I knew it before the first date. But he was funny, and charming, and sweet. So I set it aside and hoped. And today I remember why that is the wrong thing to do. But what is the alternative?

So we hope. We hope that there is something out there. We hope with each date that we may have found what we are looking for. We hope because if we give up hope, there is nothing left. No dates, no happily ever after, none of it. So we hope.

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