16 September 2012
A view from afar.
I saw him yesterday.
He was sitting on the bench in the park, the weight of the world, if not the universe on his shoulders. I watched him, his expressions, his reactions. His pain.
And it took me back, right back to that time he had told me about his wants, his needs, his desires. It took me back to that moment where his vulnerability was so clear, it took me back to that moment when he had come to me and told me about what had happened with his wife, her reactions at her discoveries. It took me back to our "sliding doors" moment, the things we shared, the things we explored.
His vulnerability had always drawn me to him. It wasn't a weakness or an issue, it wasn't a failing or a problem, it was beautiful. And his vulnerability touched me then, just in the way it always had. I remembered that night, where we had curled up on the sofa, his head in my lap, my hand gently stroking his hair while he talked.
I wanted to do that right then. To walk over to him, to stroke his head and gently soothe out the pain and the stress that was obviously overwhelming him right now. I wanted to touch him, hold him. Hurt him. His vulnerability always had a way of awakening the sadistic beast even without him realising, or even trying to.
I've missed him. But I remembered the last time I saw him. The letting go that was right, but incredibly hard. I remembered then his grip on my hand, the sparks that is sent coursing through me. We have shared so many moments over the years.
And I've missed him.
I had hoped that in letting go, that he would have moved on to find a life to fulfill him, in the way that he needs, the way that he wanted. I had hoped that he was happy. But watching him then, he looked far from happy.
I know that we just aren't on the same page, not really. And that is incredibly hard to admit when there's so many shared lines, shared chapters. But, we want a different outcome, our stories are not the same, there is no happy ending ~ there never could be. But it is hard, incredibly hard when there is common ground, common feelings, a shared attachment, a meeting of opposites.
And as I stood and watched him, I wished that it could have been different. I wish that the ending could have been happy, but, while it could have had so much happiness within it, there would always have been things missing. Things not right. However hard, however much it broke my heart, it was for the best.
Sometimes letting someone go is the hardest thing in the world, but, I did it for him, for the right reasons. Although seeing his pain, his sadness. Although seeing that look in his eyes right then, I felt angry that someone or something was causing him those feelings.
I wanted to hold him. Soothe him. Tell him it would be alright. Instead I could do none of those things except stand and watch him and hoping he would be, will he be ok?