I'm No Demi!

If God has a sense of humor; there's a good chance that I am now and will forever be his favorite punch line.

A couple of weeks ago I scolded myself for worrying so much about losing my young man whom I care a great deal for to someone else instead of enjoying my friendship with him. I finally made a deal with myself to stop worrying, and stressing, and to simply enjoy the ride.  I finally realized that I missed out on enjoying the moment because I was living outside of it.  Turns out that people like me are never wrong to worry.

I asked him to attend a co-worker's wedding, and he happily agreed. I fully admit that I have been looking forward to the event. Part of me really hoped that it would be a turning point for us, and bring us closer, maybe to the point of making it real.  Last night I fell asleep earlier than usual; before midnight. When I woke up at 3:30am there was a text on my phone from him. He was explaining that people had been asking if we were dating and that he was ending things between us; and we should only be friends. He took my sleeping silence to mean I was angry. When I finally replied it was too late and he never responded.

I am numb. There will be no tears, I won't allow it. It's never a good time to find out that someone you care about is ashamed of you.  It is however time to admit that I've been a fool. I actually believed that he cared about me and we might have a future. I allowed myself to hope that this time it could work out. I wasn't just a little wrong.

I can't blame anyone but myself. I've suspected for some time that he was ambivalent about things. I chalked it up to simple worry; believing that he cared too. I convinced myself that I was brave at my age for letting someone his age know that I was attracted to him. When he showed interest, I imagined he wanted something real with me. Instead, almost two years later, I've moved backwards. No personal conversation or phone call; but a simple, unimportant, uninventful text message.  A simplistic ending to a two year foray into an alternate reality.

I used to think it would be ok to have my heart broken a million times because it meant that you always got over it and healed., and were better in the end. As Hemingway said, "Isn't it pretty to think so."