You’ve gotten to the point where you only expect a couple of them to really participate, and have stopped trying to convince the rest that it would mean a lot to you if they came.
Maybe I’m going to go to the store and run into the man of my dreams while I’m too busy texting to look ahead of me, a meet-cute fit for a romantic comedy starring Katherine Heigl. But then again, maybe I won’t.
When I’m ordering food and cuddling up with a movie…
With you, it often feels like those dreams where you want to say something — want to scream, want to get a point across, want to be heard — and your open mouth refuses to make a sound.
There is something more difficult in losing the partner than losing the lover. You can almost accept that the sex, the kissing, the spooning, the whispered conversations at 3 AM are all over.
What do you want me to say? Yes, I hate you because I’m jealous. I’m a petty, jealous, lame human being who is handicapped by her own inability to get past her childish emotions and see people as individuals.
Part of me wants to ask you to let me go, even though I know how ridiculous that is. If I really think about it, I understand that you are not intentionally stringing me along or periodically giving me false hope for something we might have in the future.
I have had several sexual partners in my life, but I won’t tell you how many, because it doesn’t matter.
When will I stop imagining what you look like with other people, or even how many of these “other people” have been a part of your life since I left?
It’s not that you’re sad. In fact, you’re happier than you’ve been in recent memory. You’re just not interested in doing things socially just for the sake of doing them.