He Loves Me Not

14/02/24 

There was no contact from him today, Valentine’s Day. 

While I’m not really surprised, the part of me that keeps on hoping is a little disappointed.

To be frank, having hope around this was a special kind of insanity.

He never made a fuss of Valentine’s when we were together. What madness makes me hope he’d mark it now that he’s left me? 

There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that he didn’t know it was Valentine’s. 

The silence was deliberate. 

He sent a message I understand, even if I’m still unwilling/unable to accept and absorb it. 

I was wrong, so wrong to not let him know how I see him, when I had the chance.

I think he’s amazing, sexy, kind, clever, strong, determined, funny, handsome, clever….

I should have found a way to convince him how wanted, appreciated and loved he was.

I was so hurt by things he’d done while he was drinking, and so scared of further rejection, that when he found sobriety, for a while I kept him at arm’s length.

I hurt him over and over with my words as I vented my pain; no wonder he withdrew.

As soon as I realised what I’d been doing, I tried to make amends to him, to be more open and demonstrative again, but by that time he was unable or unwilling to reciprocate.

God knows if I got a do-over chance, he’d never doubt how much I want him.  

I know the possibility of that chance is infinitesimally small, but even while I battle to accept that reality, I still can’t help but hope and pray. 

The thought of never being able to touch him, feel him inside me, it’s too much to bear.  I miss the weight of him next to me in bed, his smell, the taste of him. 

I dreamed of him the other night.  We were making love in a little row boat that had been pulled up onto a beach.  It was a warm evening and we lay together afterwards, holding each other, caressing, talking, kissing. 

I felt so bereft and lonely when I woke up. Not only was it not real, but it’s yet another thing I almost certainly won’t get to do with him. 

Why didn’t we do things like that? 

Why did we not treasure each other? 

Why did we squander something that had so much potential? 

I should have found better ways to explain myself and to talk things through with him, instead of becoming hurt and defensive when he didn’t understand. 

I wish I could tell him now but it’s way too late. 

He’s told me he closed off because he felt disillusioned and didn’t want to be hurt by my controlling, vicious, needy ways any more. 

I wish there was a tiny ember of love and connection that could be gently fanned back into a flame. 

There is inside me. 

Sometimes I think there is inside him too, but then it seems as if he’s pulling back and stamping it out on purpose. I’m not worth the emotional risk to him. 

I just want to feel his arms around me, his mouth on mine. 

I want to hear the desire in his voice, see the passion in his eyes. 

Did I kill it like he said? 

Did he? 

I think we both did. 

He’d probably say it’s just words but I swear if I had another chance I’d do things differently. 

I would listen more, control less; give more, prickle less. 

I’d open up and show that softness he told me he wanted because, honestly, any pain being risked by doing so is nothing compared to how I feel right now without him. 

I don’t think I ever realised before just how much I love him, want him, need him.

I don’t think it’s a case of wanting what I can’t have; it feels more like not realising what I had until it’s gone. 

Despite what he initially said about keeping the door open I think he already locked it and hurled the key into the sea long before he even walked out the door. 

I wish it wasn’t like that.

Some days I dare to hope and believe just a little that it’s not like that, then I look at how almost completely he’s already cut me out of his life and reality crushes hope. 

I think a lot of what he was doing in those last years, the almost total refusal to engage positively, was an attempt to get me to stop wanting him. That way we could ‘mutually’ decide to break up and he wouldn’t have to ‘take the blame’.

It didn’t work.  I never stopped wanting him.

I’d really like to stop wanting him now, because maybe then this interminable pain would stop.

JP