Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction..

I will always love him.

In my dreams, he’s the one who is there. Forever constant though the seasons change. He is the initials carved into the tree trunk.

It’s been nearly a year now. Around this time was when we started our courtship. It would be the breath of life and the last straw on the camels back. But I didn’t know it then. Or at least I didn’t want to admit that it might be. No one ever wants to believe that “it’s just too good to be true..”

Shame on me.

If there exists such a thing as destiny, it was..it is that relationship.

Flashback: Six years ago. Bassam’s cafe. Downtown San Diego. My frequent spot for coffee and smokes. Me- the girl with the red hair, fair skin, white London Fog, a notebook in the corner with my cloves. Him- sipping coffee and puffing away at Nat Shermans.

But we didn’t know each other then. Though we were both regulars to that establishment. Constant passerbys in a laid back metropolis. Faces in the crowd. No one particular.

But then history repeats itself.

Months have gone by.. 6 months passed since we’d seen eachother beyond pixels. It was like nothing had ever happened. To be continued… story of my life. It has been an epic tale of hardship and pain. But one of justification and need not for justification.

Watching Madmen this week solidified it. Everytime I’ve been with someone else, I’ve been looking for you. Why?

I reminsced about those days. Of the honeymoon period where everything was magical. Because it was. And you were. But was it really just a dream within a dream?

Those moments weren’t all magical.

So why do I crave them so badly?

***

Edit:

I think it’s mostly the wonder of “what if” that’s the draw. I can’t believe it’s been this long. Over a year of messaging and what not. And then the timing that seemed so perfect. But if it really was so perfect, why didn’t that move go so smoothly? He’d wanted it to happen. So did I… so badly.

Instead, it was one for the books. Everything fell apart just as quickly as it came together. Perhaps there’s a reason and it’s not just a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidence anyway.

It’s not the same. It’s probably for the best. Even if you were some of the best sex I’ve ever had. I’m not sure if it was really you or it was just how tumultuous that relationship was. Emotionally masochistic that I am.

You’re gone. I’m happier. No sense living in the past anymore. I just wish you wouldn’t keep popping up everywhere. I just wish that you would fade into that background that you always wanted to be in.. but couldn’t be while you were with me, so you said.

It really is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Thank you for reminding me how strong I am. For believing in me. And for saying goodbye.

A hardened heart… but I did all I could. I’m putting you back into that fantasy and letting you exist only there. It’s better this way. I wish you all the best and am genuinely happy for you and your fair lady.

I got a message when I first met you. Do you remember?

It said: He will break your heart and you will never be the same… but he’s worth it.

How true that seems to have turned out.  If I had to do it all over.. I wouldn’t change a thing.

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House

Dear Mr House,

Last night was supposed to be a special romantic evening.  Even though we all joked, I couldn’t have been more thankful for it than I was.  I felt really bad.  I honestly did.  About the rain and your physical ailments.  But you coming over turned into a catalyst.  One that I really hope is not completely soured.

This is a really bad time of the year for me.  Blogs that have not been finished line the tales as to why.  Things mostly unsaid- except to a few-including yourself.

I paid a good deed forward last night.

And yet, I feel terrible.

Ladies-

Do you ever wish to be ugly?  Just one day, out of the blue- you just wake up from this dream world of beauty, and suddenly every man ignores you.  Your problems with men magically fade away as you enter the world of friend zones and rejection.

Sometimes I think my life would be easier.  Though I don’t wish for it at all.

“Why?  Why God did you curse me with this beautiful face…”-a Knight’s Tale

When it all felt like it was falling apart, I grabbed my jacket to walk him out, and my phone by instinct.  I scrolled my contacts and found your picture.  I held it tight and nearly fainted from the tears I was holding back.

Im an idiot.

Scene:

He texts me “I’m in your base, cooking you foodz.”

And I giggled on the way out of work.  Excited. Happy.  I was looking forward to this all day.  To romance and beyond.  Of all that cheesy crap women-yes even strong women- wish for (but don’t want to admit for fear it will make them look weak.)

Scene:  I’m pulling out of the parking lot with my carpool in tow and he comes to my window.  It was shitty out and he rides a bike.  He carried a cane.  Had been hit by a car this weekend by an illegal.  He was in desperate need of a razor.

So when he asked me if he could spend a little time at my place till it cleared up, I did what any real friend would do.  I made room for him in the truck and brought him home. He’d be over a little while.  I’d make sure he was comfortable if we wanted our alone time.  The grip and I would make do.

I couldnt tell him no, but what if I hadmaybe

Scene: 4am I awoke from nightmares. He and her were going to make it right he told me as he let me go.  She gave him everything he wanted- a family- something that i could have easily given him & he wanted me to.

But I didnt

Scene: I arrived home with House in tow.  Honey in the kitchen, cooking up a storm.  It smelled wonderful.  It’s something I haven’t had in ages.  Take away the mess of my apartment.  Take House out of the picture.  Turn the clock back to that golden era.  A modern twist… it was… divine.  There really is something to be said about that whole “Leave it to Beaver” lifestyle.  I didn’t have this a year ago.  I didn’t appreciate it when I was married. Maybe it really is about the person you’re with… as much as what it is they do for you inside.

It was supposed to be our moment.

Scene:  We drove House back to his bike.  Joked about the grip enjoying borrowing Moms hybrid without asking while they were on vacation.  The Oprah magazine.  The dalmation puppy keychain.  The magnet address book (unwritten in) from San Francisco.  The angel prayer pin above her drivers seat. Tissues everywhere.  Mom’s gardening hat…

Me: “Oh look I’m a Mexican!”

Him: “Mom wears that out in public to nice places too. Shut up.”

Me: “So how weird would it be if I wore it when we fucked?  Would you call me Mommy?”

I put the hat on.

Me: “What about road head?  In your parents car where your mom sits.. Would that be alright?”  He smiled, rolled his eyes and blushed.

Him: “Jerk.”

Scene: Driving home. Him: Ah FINALLY some alone time.

And I smiled. Ran my fingers through his hair.

It was supposed to be our moment.

Scene:  He smiled through it all and made do.  Made another plate and brought it to the table.  Asked what we wanted to drink.  Poured himself another glass of cheap scotch.

I asked if there was anything in particular that they wanted to watch. Ok, so I may have only really hinted at it.

“My character is really fat on Fable 2. Wanna run me around a bit?”

I was only halfway joking.

Instead, we watched Disc 3.

“Oh honey I took a test with “What Madmen character are you?”” I said giddily.  “Guess who I got?”

He smiled.  I turned to House.

“Have you ever seen Madmen? It’s my latest late obsession?”

House:”No. What is it?”

Me:”My favorite character… she’s so me, or.. wait that sounds bad. Ha.”

The grip smiled again as he finished in the kitchen.

The grip:”What do you want to drink dear?”

Me:”I’m not sure. There isn’t milk for a white russian. Sadness.”

I turned back to House.

Me:”It’s got the chick from Firefly in it…the redhead.”

House:”Which one?”

Me:”The hot one.”

The grip:”Saffron.”

House raised his eyebrows.  I smiled and clicked away at the remote.

It was supposed to be our moment.

Scene: He turned the corner.  Our conversation did the same.  Pivoted on that untimely exit because Fate knows no bounds.  She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Potential. Dismissal.  Things I cannot say.  Territory that in some respects, I likely shouldn’t be treading in. But I pressed just the same.

It was supposed to be our moment.

Scene: We got home and laid in bed.  The stories like ribbons flitting in the wind.  And he held me.  Under paper lanterns I pointed up.

“See that? Stars.” I said as I held him close.

And there was passion.  Unforced. Unselfish.  Genuine passion.  Because he made it feel like home that night.  He was my home that night.

It was supposed to be our moment.

Scene: And now the stack of comic books lie on top of a box outside my room.  His set of keys on my dresser again. But this time not on accident.  He took 2 books with him.  Refused to take any of the rest.  And in the wake of his absence I can still feel the silence.

Scene: Fifteen minutes until 8am.  I’m still not dressed. I haven’t slept at all.  Held company with a dark prince- a friend- a.. I don’t know what he is anymore.  All I can think about is you.  Of how hurtful everything I said- albeit truthful-hurt you.  And once again, I worry about the status of my non relationship.

Last night I drove a friend home.  I had good intentions.

I paid a good deed forward last night.

And yet, I feel terrible.

Why? Because…

It was supposed to be our moment.