On Tuesday night, in the heat of the conversation, it seemed so urgent, so necessary to convince Irish to reconsider. It seemed as if something so important was happening, and I was struggling to keep it alive.
On Wednesday morning, the loss seemed devastating. I was exhausted and beaten down; the light had gone out of my eyes. I plodded through the day, willing myself to concentrate, willing myself not to fall apart.
On Wednesday night I went home and opened a bottle of wine. The Sister came over and we commiserated and got emotional and reconnected in a way that we haven't been able to lately. I finished that bottle of wine and an episode of Grey's Anatomy and fell into a blissfully dreamless slumber.
By Thursday morning, the feelings that had been swirling around in my head since I met Irish were dissipating. He was fading quickly into that sort of hazy memory that all old dates and loves and acquaintances end up as. The ache that had bloomed in my chest late Tuesday night was barely more than a small twinge by the time that I got to work.
By Thursday afternoon, I was tired of talking about it. The Mother was the last person that I told the story to with any sort of lingering emotional attachment. Even then I was just worn out on feelings that had hardly had a chance to be there in the first place. There was still a small part of me crying out in indignation, crying out for the brief moment of hope that I had had, but that small part was crying out in a quieter and quieter voice.
This morning I jumped right out of bed when my alarm went off at 5:00 am. I dressed quickly and headed to the gym. On the treadmill I used every step of my three mile run to envision myself moving farther and farther away from Irish and the potential relationship that I can now see would never have been able to work out. I ran faster today than I have since I injured my leg back in August, and it felt better than it had in a long time.
Lyrics of the Day
"Well, the bells out in the church tower chime, burning clues into this heart of mine. Thinking so hard on her soft eyes, and the memories offer signs that it's over, it's over." Jeff Buckley Last Goodbye
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6 years ago
3 comments:
I am so sorry to hear about what happened.
I went through something similar very recently. I had the date of my life . Never before have I felt so connected with another person.
And then she vanishes without a phone call or email. My call and email was unreturned.
Well, I can perfectly understand if she didn't feel the same way I did. But a one line email saying "Sorry. I don't feel the spark" ? Shouldn't be too much to ask, right?
At that time the emptiness was killing me. I never thought one-date could do so much damage.
Now I have moved on.
You will too.
You know why? Because we are suckers for that one beautiful smile, that one glance, that one spark which makes the world seem better than what it is.
I'm very sorry.
~J
Treadmill therapy--I do the same with crazy-long walks. Doesn't it feel great to clear your mind and actually move??
Best to you, always.
The Gal
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