something honest

For the first time, something real and close to me. And current. Only 10 minutes have passed. Blogs are great so you don't have to really bother anyone with your sob stories.

So R called and left me 2 messages on Thursday.
"Merry Christmas, Happy New Year...in town 'til Monday...maybe I could see you before I take off."

Hmmm...To call back or not to call back. He's a human being that I loved a whole hell of a lot, judging from the effects of everything on me. How can I keep ignoring efforts at friendship?

Now, I have been bad at returning calls lately and answering e-mails. I've got a list of people to call back or e-mail back. So, it's not unusual that I waited until today to call. It does help that the chances he'll actually come downtown to see me are now terribly slim.

Anyway, I dialed the number. His mom answered. She's the sweetest thing ever, soft-voiced and gentle, someone who genuinely cares about people. When he left, we sat in the car and cried together. That was a little over 3 years ago.

She told me that she thought she recognized my voice. "I often think about you. I wonder how you're doing every time I drive by your street."

So I'm definitely not going to be able to see him tonight. I've got my answer. I told his mom that I, too, often think about how she's doing. My voice got shaky with the last digits of my phone number because she had just said, "Thanks. We're very fond of you", in a voice threaded with regret and understanding of what I had gone through.

I tried to sound as cheerful as possible, with my voice growing thin and rising in pitch to hide the tremble.

So I can't be his friend right now. I can't hang out with him. Though I'm completely over him, he triggers pain and sadness. R = call in the neurons of hurt. I won't do that to myself all over again.

I'm glad, though, that I'm beginning to understand exactly how much I did love him. I like knowing what I'm capable of.