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Written one and a half years ago.

June 28, 2011

Congratulations, you’ve stumbled upon a piece of writing which, since its inception, has been frozen in the bowels of a desolate place where time has no meaning: my private weblog.  I hereby deliver it exclusively to you, humble OKC user.

I do not mean this entry to be representative of my personality or my usual disposition.  I do not mean this entry to help you determine whether or not you are a good match for me.  I have chosen this entry simply because it is one of the most honest things I have ever written, and I hope that one day, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps years from now, the whole world could be so honest.

Because, frankly, I’m getting bored of reading your boring-ass journal entries. *grin*

 

——–

 

There’s no doubt in my mind that it was right, and furthermore that it would have been right for it to have happened much sooner than it did. Like I’ve told my parents, I’m just weak. I really could have deluded myself into thinking Jen was the one. I could have eventually married her even. Love’s such a stupid thing. I’ve said that a lot lately too. Life would be so much easier if we would just fall for the people we’re compatible with, but I guess it never works that way. I’m always going to love girls who aren’t right for me at all.

It still wrenches my insides to say it. That she’s not right for me, that she never was. I can’t stand to face that fact, but a fact it is.

It makes me not know what else to say. If you aren’t right for each other, then that’s that. Nothing else to say. But there’s so much more to say. There’s so much more that I should have said. I hate that almost all I have are IM conversations. I want so desperately to remember the good times, and yet I can’t go on living my life if I remember too well how good they were. It’s probably better that I didn’t document this relationship, just like the other ones. But I can’t stand having nothing but my own patchy memory to think about her.

I still wonder if it could have worked out, and I’m sure I always will. Even though I know for a fact she was wrong for me, I still wonder if it could have worked out. A lot of my feelings these days don’t make sense.

Christie came to the Clark Kerr reunion party Andrew had at our apartment a week ago. She was still the same girl that I had been attracted to before. She was still attractive to me now. But I found that I could look at her and feel nothing of what I used to, good or bad. It was as if the whole relationship had happened to someone else, some third party that I knew very well and identified with more than any other person on earth, but still another person. She was still the same girl, and I remembered things we did together, but we no longer had a history. That was long gone.

Most would say that it’s healthy, that it’s proof that I’ve completely gotten past her. I’m sure it’s true. But it occurred to me that someday, years from now, I’m going to meet up with Jen again, and she will look to me as Christie looked to me last week. I’ll look at her, and no feelings will surge back, good or bad. And I’ll remember her face to every last detail, and I’ll remember everything we did together, but as for what it was like to LOVE her–that will be… gone forever, far away.

I’m sure it will be a fine day for me, when it comes. Maybe I’ll be with somebody else, maybe somebody I’ll be spending the rest of my life with. Maybe she will too. Perhaps, when we meet that day, everything in our lives will have worked out perfectly, for both of us.

But it’s when that day comes into my mind, it’s when I stop and really think about that day, that it’s hardest of all for me. Even now, I can’t talk or think about this anymore, or I’ll be in tears for hours. There’s nothing I can’t stand more in this whole goddamn planet than the thought that I might forget just what it was like to love Jen.

It makes me want to never leave this room again, so that this experience won’t be crowded out by newer ones. I could go on being the exact same person I am today for the rest of my life, completely unaltered by experience. Every day I live she gets further away from me, and it makes me want to shut out everything else and think of nothing but her for as long as I live.

I won’t, though. I’ll keep living exactly as I have been, just like I always do, because that’s what has to happen. You can’t really stop the flow of time, even if you try. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that everything has to move forward; nothing ever goes back.

I just wish there was some way. Some way to bring it all back to the way it was at the beginning.

I’m tearing up. I have to end this entry now.

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