“O you, who in some pretty boat,
Eager to listen, have been following
Behind my ship, that singing sails along
Turn back to look again upon your own shores;
Tempt not the deep, lest unawares,
In losing me, you yourselves might be lost.
The sea I sail has never yet been passed;
Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo,
And Muses nine point out to me the Bears.
You other few who have neck uplifted
Betimes to the bread of angels upon Which one lives and does not grow sated,
Well may you launch your vessel
Upon the deep sea.”
I've decided to post this publicly, even if it means him reading it.
I've been waking up crying the past few nights, and I could barely tell for the life of me why. But this morning, I figured it out. My subconscious is better at remembering things than I am. Three years. It's been three years since that awful night. And if not for my wretched subconscious wanting to process and re-process the pain, I would have let the dark anniversary go unmarked. I'm crying again just thinking about it. As much as I would like to talk to him face to face and let the pain between us out, I know that's not possible. And maybe he would think unfair of me to still be hurting, a point I grant him. I continue loving men for years beyond when I tell them; I miss them; I think about the future we were going to have. I mask it by dating again, taking new lovers. I repress that pain. But it comes back up to process eventually, and so that time has come for him. I don't regret leaving -- and I don't regret leaving the way I did -- I did what I thought best at the time -- I felt threatened for my life -- but it was very painful. It was also very painful losing him; cutting off all he meant to me. Three years later and the sensations in those parts of my brain are only now starting to come back, the numbness wearing away. And again, perhaps he would think this unfair, but it is my process. The sad thing for me, is how important a two years time it was, but I generally don't allow myself to think about it. The consequences were so painful, that it was hard to think about the good times, and why I went so far. But with time now, I can start to look back.
I think I'd like to be out on a boat on the river again... Goddamnit, why does my face keep on raining!