It has been a while since I forced myself to sit down and write something. It has actually been about five months, give or take. At Christmas time I sent her two books for her and two movies for her boy as gifts. In hindsight, it was a poor decision. Was I actively trying to woo her back with gifts? No, not really. Did I have some sort of misguided or ill-conceived hope that it would at least start a dialogue up? Yeah, of course I did. You see my mind likes to have these back and forth thoughts, like waves gently falling onto a beach. One wave will be reasonable, rational, the next will be the exact opposite, and it is up to me to try to sort through all of the wet sand the waves leave behind.
She was unhappy with the gifts, she sent them back unopened, and followed that up with a message that simply said to leave her alone, that it had been a long time since we had been together, that she thought I was a good guy, just not her guy, that she knew from the get go that we were not going to work out. She said there was a line in the sand, and I should not cross it, I should not reach out again. She also told me to stop writing about her. I responded sheepishly that I understood, that I would not reach out, that I would not send anything else, but I did say that I would write about whatever I felt like. The writing is mine, and it is all I really have as far as a way to cope with things. But then a wave crashed in my brain, and I have not written anything since. Not a line.
I wonder about a lot of things from that last exchange. Am I intimidated, is that why I stopped writing? Am I still holding out some sort of delusional hope? SHe is getting married for God’s sake! AM I just scared that the writing is getting repetitive and stale? Is it that I am simply not good enough to write, because I was not good enough for her? But then the waves come again, some good, some bad. She said she knew right away, why did she say all the things she said when we were together? She said she knew right away, why did she stay for the year? I have not begun to figure that stuff out, or even try to, because I believe it would be a monumental waste of energy, and a needless exercise in inflicting more pain upon myself. I have become comfortable with this simple idea: if she meant what she said back then, she is lying now, and if she meant what she said five months ago, she was lying then, either way, how can I trust anything that was said at all? I hope she is well, I hope her son is well, and I hope she has found someone who she can tell the truth to.
Meanwhile, I want to start writing again. I have ideas. Ideas for short stories, long stories, poems, and songs, and I am going to ease back into it, writing little bits here and there, kind of like exercising after a long lay off. I am not going to be prolific, I never really was, but I am going to be steadier about things. Because writing is important to me, and I do find it comforting to let some of the things out of my head and onto the screen. So read if you’d like, comment if you want. I will selfishly tell you that for now, this is for me, and for no one else, and that is just fine.