I don’t know why I was curious, but I was. I had not been to her blog in a long time. We did not part on good terms. I made her uncomfortable and she said so in ways that to me, felt cruel. Her words, to me, were ageist, ableist, and cis sexist. I know my reactions to them were painted by my immediate hurt and my life’s circumstances. I also know that if she thought her words were taken any of those ways she would be hurt. It is part of the reason I was drawn to her, like me, she seeks to educate on those very issues. I never wanted to make her worry. So I backed off. I blocked her on Facebook for our mutual emotional health.
But today I got curious. So I looked up her blog. Things have changed. She’s in a different state. She is writing again, which is great, because that was something else I thought was fantastic about her. Her prose moved me, and still does. In the middle of all that though was a letter to an anonymous person she felt she hurt. I don’t know if it was written for me, in fact I am reasonably certain it was not, but it could have been. Who knows? Though I am reminded of the one very accurate point she made when we parted ways, that I had fallen for a personality on a computer screen, despite the fact that we knew each other IRL. Reading that post today though, I almost wanted to reach out to her again. Almost.
It is best that I don’t. Who knows, maybe she will read this, maybe she will reach out to me, though I don’t know if that would be a good idea. It is probably best to just leave the past in the past. I have a hard time letting go, though. I know I am awkward, and weird, and hard to get used to, even leaving aside my gender issues. I know I don’t know how to act when I have feelings for someone, I wish I did. I am a little broken I know this, better than any of you could ever tell me.
This is not news to any of my long time readers. It is the one thing I do not like about my life: the fact that I don’t get to enjoy the intimacy so many take for granted. It reaches into my chest and squeezes, hard, sometimes. Every once in a while it makes me break down and cry. It sucks being lonely.
Still, I know I could have it worse. There are people who have to spend every day afraid. They are left fighting day to day for the basics and always have to worry about doing with out. There are people who worry that a bomb thrown from half a world away will shatter their lives. There are people dying slowly from debilitating diseases. A broken heart, in the grand scheme of things is a small thing. I know I will cope. I will cope in part because I know that while my feelings were not reciprocated, they were not foolish either. Whether the post was meant for me or not, it made it pretty clear I fell for someone who is genuinely caring, and if it was not meant for me, I hope the person it was knows this.
I do hope she reads this. Even if she never responds. I hope she knows how sincerely sorry I am for any worry I caused her. We live in a world where romance and love are such a mine field, where women in particular have to concern themselves with their safety, both physical and emotional, so I have no anger toward her, even if what she wrote me a year and a half ago was hurtful and ill considered. Goodness knows I have done the same. I may be broken, but then again, so are we all, and that is OK.
- What to do with a Broken Heart (bugirlblog.wordpress.com)
- Heartbreak on a budget (fiercelycookingit.wordpress.com)
- Why A Broken Heart is a Good Thing. ~ Noelle Elliott (elephantjournal.com)
- Fix my broken heart (carrieleigh10.wordpress.com)