The maze and the box

One of the most important qualities a person can have is the ability to listen. 

Today, over a beautiful coffee and a decadent scone, I told my friend about what had occurred yesterday with Lost Soul. She listened. I spoke. 

I manoeuvred myself through the maze that is my thoughts of Lost Soul. There were dead ends. There were dark, scary corners that I didn’t want to go around. There were light filled paths of flowers and butterflies that resulted in more dead ends. Eventually I got to the middle. There wasn’t much there. Except the exit. The exit was there. 

She listened. She questioned occasionally. And at the end of my manoeuvres she told me that I had answered my own questions: I had worked this out myself. Here are my thoughts:

Fact is, he has had more than enough opportunity to start ‘something’ with me. He hasn’t. He hasn’t called and he hasn’t indicated he wants anything more.  After what happened a few weeks ago, he is probably well aware that if he tried again, I would say yes. 

But he hasn’t tried again. He clearly doesn’t want there to be anything more. His coming round means nothing. Sure, he is friendly towards me. You wouldn’t visit – even if it was to see my sister and her husband – if he didn’t feel welcome here. You wouldn’t touch someone needlessly as you walked past them unless you cared. But it doesn’t mean he wants any more than that. As my friend said, he was brazen enough to ask for it last time so there’s nothing stopping him from doing it again if he wanted. He clearly doesn’t want. 

Part of the long process of getting over him last time was about putting a box around my feelings. The box’s label said ‘only if’. I pictured a time when we could be together. In that box I was single and had lost weight. My children were cared for equally by me and their dad, meaning I had time for him. Lost Soul had matured. He had a career. He was settled, happy – knew what he wanted. He wanted me. He was single.  

The box helped me because it gave me hope but allowed me to get on withy life. However I knew that it was very unlikely that all those factors would align at once. If it did, we were fated to be together. I knew that in reality it wouldn’t happen, but I had that little sparkly box of hope to keep me going. 

I know that it is never going to happen. I know that if it did, it probably wouldn’t work. 

It doesn’t matter that everytime I see him, my heart just sings. It doesn’t matter that I am unbelievably attracted to him. It doesn’t matter that I thought we were soul mates. 

He does not want to be with me. 

And so I am taking that sparkly box of hope called ‘only if’ and I’m going to place it in the deepest, darkest part of that maze. And then, I’m going to will Sleeping Beauty’s thorny fortress around it. I’m going to relegate it to the fairytales because that is all it is. 

I’ve got to get over this. I’ve got to stop hoping that everytime I see him, this could be the time that… He doesn’t want me and never will. 

I’m ashamed of myself for being so.. so weak. Yes, this really, really hurts but I have got to accept it. 

My friend suggested that I ask my sister to not bring him round again. My heart sank. The fear inside that I would never see him again…  I also know that wouldn’t work for me. Not seeing him doesn’t change how I feel because my sparkly box of hope still exists. 

No, I need to learn to exist in this life with him in it but accepting that he will never, ever be mine. I’ve got to get over him, once and for all. 


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