Monday, March 29, 2010

Bored to hear your heart still breaks

This time last year I started a new relationship.

It was over in less than two months.

Part of me understands that after time passes, it is not the person but what they represented that you still love. The feelings you had when you were with them. The hormones. The happiness you feel. Apparently, those are the things you love after it's over.

Right now I just don't feel like that is true. I know that I love him. I miss him terribly. I cry every day, and my heart breaks more intensely as the present becomes the past, and the future feels lonely.

Last year was hard for me. I found him. I lost him. My cat died. It's still hard. I love them both. Grendel lives in my heart, but the guy! He left a huge empty space in my aorta.

I remember every day we were together. What I wore. What we did. The whole time we were only apart one day when he took a trip to Quebec City.

I will list the reasons why I know that I love him, and not just some abstract idea.

The things I can tell you:

We met after the St. Paddy's parade through a friend and went bowling.
We bonded over a mutual hatred for one particular person we both knew.
Our first attempt to get together was cock-blocked by his roommate.
We went for drinks on a Thursday. Him, me, his two friends from Switzerland.
That Saturday we went to a show.
I saw him checking me out, and I knew.

Our first dance was to the song "Young Folks" by Peter, Bjorn, and John.
The song had been following me around for a while. I was glad to find someone to relate it to.

I got to live that song for a month and a half.

He is smart, intelligent, honest and kind.
He always held my hand as we walked along the street, or watched a movie.
He dried my tears when I cried during the Kite Runner. I always cry when I watch a sad movie.
We cuddled as we slept. I woke up in his arms every day.
Our relationship was private and intimate. And I felt like my soul connected to a person.

He wasn't devoted to the things I'm devoted to: Twee, cats, and all things cute.
But he was interested in learning about them.
He read all about Twee and listened to the music with me.
Not once did he insult my music or my people.
He raps in Swiss German and is in a fab Swiss hip hop band.
I prefer old-school rap, but it's cool.

His best friend has the same name and is such an amazing person.
I wanted his friend to be my brother.

I never really cared for how he dressed, but I did find it endearing.
Giant baseball caps, over-sized shirts, and big pants.
He didn't care for the way I dressed either. It was good.

He has weak wrists.
His teeth are busted.

He was constantly talking and telling stories. He never repeated the same story twice.
He always told the truth, no matter how painful, or how much trouble it would get him in to.

He would joke about marrying me to get his Canadian citizenship.
Sometimes that made me uncomfortable.

It was strange: we gave our potential children their first names "Dale and Eris"; he combined our last names with a hyphen.

He has a blank banner below his tattoo of ancient warriors. He told me that's where his children's names will be inked.

For the first time I thought about maybe becoming a mother, and I imagined Dale and Eris on his arm.
I imagined what they would look like.
Just like him, but with blue eyes and blonde hair.
I didn't say my thoughts out loud. It's weird even writing about it now.

On his bedroom wall were photos of his family, and I loved them. I don't know why.
I would look at the photos when he was off doing other things, or studying.
For the first time in my life I became attached deep in my heart to complete strangers.

His sister is so beautiful, and she understands the dolls and the toys.
She makes little videos of her stuffed animal Rooli, and updates her facebook page with photos and videos.

Is it weird that I want to introduce them to Claudia? (see previous post)

His brother likes MSTRKRFT, drives an old car, and is now well-known in St. Gallen.
I spoke to his mom on the telephone once, and she said she hoped I would visit that summer.
She thanked me for keeping him company.
I remember her voice, and it sounded like a female version of his.
He resembles his mother most.
He told me his dad works very hard. His dad has white hair and likes dogs.
His hair is turning grey too. So is mine, but I dye it.

He said he felt like himself when we were together.
That I made him feel as if he could be.
He told me none of his old girlfriends would ever dance the night away to MSTRKRAFT like I did.

I don't know exactly why he ended it.

I was willing to change and become the person I always wanted to be.
The change was starting.
I didn't want to change for him, I wanted to change for me.
I wanted to be different. Not who I was then, and not who am now.

Not where I am now.
I would leave this place and see the world with him.

When we broke up, I had to be just as honest, so I told him how I felt about him.
He told me he felt the same way, and that all the feelings he said he had for me are true.

The only difference is, my feelings equal love, and his do not.
He said his heart was cold inside.

I never told him that I truly loved him, except on the day he broke up with me.

Oh wait, it came out once by accident the first time we knocked boots.
I wanted to say "your eyes" but my voice said "you".
That damn Freudian Slip.

I think he got scared because things moved way too fast.
What he didn't know was... I was scared too.

I had much more changing to do than he did.
It's not easy to let go and just change.
And, as it turns out, I was the one who had everything to lose.

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