"I'm not a concept. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to make them alive, but I'm just a fucked-up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours." -- Clementine Kruczynski, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
I miss Goose. Missing Goose is like having a bruise that never heals. Most of the time, it's just a dull ache, but sometimes, something pokes it into a sharp pain that cannot be ignored.
I haven't had any contact with him in almost three months, since I declined his invitation to meet up with him in Las Vegas. I have used tremendous willpower to resist checking his Facebook page (since this will only lead to further heartache, I am sure) or emailing him. Even so, I find myself trying to come up with any flimsy pretext to email him. No matter how much I churn the problem around in my mind, I can't come up with anything. Given how much I've considered it, even as I hate myself for doing so, I must conclude that there is no pretext for emailing him other than because I want to, which is not so much pretext as...text.
In my mind, Goose is the one who needs to email me first if there is to be any resumption of contact. He may believe the opposite, since I'm the one who refused to go to Las Vegas after he invited me twice, or he may not care. One thing I learned from my recent revelation that Doug Funny got married is that I am capable of thinking that a man has deep, though perhaps complicated, feelings for me when he in fact probably doesn't even remember my last name. That realization feels like shit. When Goose and I were together last summer, there was an intense connection between us. When we parted at the airport and I saw his face for the last time, he was looking at the ground, heartbroken, not wanting to let go of my hand. When we hugged each other good-bye, I let go first, and he pulled me to him a second time, when I again let go first so he wouldn't miss his flight. But now, it seems like he just wanted me for a warm place to park his junk while he was on vacation and I imagined these tempestuous feelings.
When does this get better? I think there are two answers, both equally true: eventually and never. I loved Doug Funny so much that it took me years to get over him, and yet I never really did, as evidenced by the fact that I was just recently looking him up online to see what he's up to. If I keep on keeping on with my plan not to contact Goose, I see no reason why the recovery process will not unfold the same way. And yet, I don't remember still hurting this much over Doug Funny this long after the last time I saw him. Perhaps that's just my mind playing tricks on me, since I met Doug Funny almost six years ago and it is hard to recall the exact color of my emotions. Or perhaps it's because Doug Funny and I had very little contact with each other after we separated in July 2004. In fact, I don't think I spoke with him at all between October 2004 and December 2007, and I communicated with him only three or four times between July and October 2004. Goose and I spoke much more frequently, and there was the invitation to meet him in Las Vegas. Perhaps it's because I love Goose more than I loved Doug Funny.
I'm sure there is also something to the fact that I met Goose at a time when my professional life was in a shambles. This may prolong my grief at our relationship's non-starter status, much as my professional woes compounded with the loss of Doug Funny to make for an exponentially worse time of things. When I find a permanent job, maybe that will lessen the hurt. (I would sure like to test that theory by finding a permanent job.)
Everything about this situation seems to pile on everything else to make it worse and worse. I miss him, but it's made worse by my perception (based on his silence) that he doesn't miss me. I love him, which is made sadder and more poignant by my perception (again, based on his silence as well as his unwillingness to break up with his girlfriend) that he doesn't love me. It all leaves me with the sour feeling that I am not lovable but rather only desirable, that these men want me for what I represent (in my Serena van der Woodsen fashion) and then get tired of me and never think about me again.
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2 comments:
Dunno if I must say it but these men don't seem worth all the misery you are putting yourself through. Just wake up one day & tell yourself - Its a new life & the past is chucked forever from this moment. No-one but only you can take out yourself from feeling about men who never bother about you. A good woman deserves a better man. Simple as that. All the best. @ (http://mysuitabledream.blogspot.com)
Some guys are just great actors. I was recently at a singer songwriter night, and there was a guy singing intense beautiful songs about his partner and young kids and how much he loved them, in the meantime he was sitting next to me passing comments all night about the women and girls that he fancied.
It's not that you're not loveable, it's just that you've been unlucky.
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