One Year

I can’t believe that it has been a year since we were just hanging out at home; saying up late and talking until I fell asleep – always before you. You would stay up and play stupid computer games or watch the news all night. Sometimes during the day, I would call you to talk more about ordinary things that were happening; or about what you were doing or where your work was taking you and who you might be tracking down. Somehow we were so well connected that I could see in my minds-eye what would happen and who the person was and how you would try to reason with them or try to comfort their families. You are in many ways a good man. We were so close. We were making plans for the future – or at least I was, as it seems (Ali and retiring to a horse farm in Colorado). I can’t believe that it has been a year since you waved goodbye to me at the airport; how I looked forward to returning and finding us together in a whole new life – one that you never intended to pursue. I was never made aware of the hidden agenda; of what was really in your mind; and how you knew I wasn’t going to be part of your life in the next 60 days that followed. I can’t believe that things changed so drastically. I can’t believe there were so many betrayals that came from so many directions.

I remember the first time you disappeared. It was raining during the 4 days and I thought my heart would stop. It was the beginning of a series of disappearances for no apparent reasons but perhaps for those of weakness and cowardice. When things become difficult or uncomfortable, it is easy for people of looser moral fiber to walk away without conscience or concern. The strong always stand their ground. I can’t believe that you never thought it would come back to affect you in some way. Regret has a way of washing over you in waves. During those first 4 days, I wrote this for you and then I took you back on day 5:

Someone broke my heart today.
I didn’t see it coming.
I was doing fine alone.
Then he came in and said all the right things
and looked at me in all the right ways;
letting me believe that we weren’t playing The Game.
It was just us.
For a short time, my feet weren’t touching the ground.
I forgot how that felt.
He was there from nowhere and it felt like he knew me.
And then he went away as fast as he came
because maybe I didn’t say the right things.
Maybe I didn’t do the right thing.
Maybe he saw me as I really am.
I forgot about The Game.
I let my armor down for a little while and he got through.
It is so much easier when you love a ghost and no one can hurt you.
I’m going to put my armor back on and
no one is going to get through no matter what.
I won’t let them.

The brief times when I’ve felt neglected or uncared for, I look around at the people who are now, and always have been here and really do love me; and I know how lucky I am to have people of quality and higher morals in my life. I make a call and someone always picks up the phone just to make sure I’m ok.

The opposite of love isn’t hate; it is indifference. Regrettably, I am not indifferent; I still grieve for the type of man that I thought you were. After a year, I still find it hard to believe that I couldn’t see who you really are.

I can’t believe it has been a year already. It feels like the good parts were only a dream.