I was thinking about what I miss the most. today, i’m extremely hungover. i kept thinking about him throughout the day as i do. with much less emotion though, i remarked on that. couldn’t tell if it’s from my hangover. i was thinking about the first night i ever slept over. i must have started thinking about it when i was on the 3 AM train back to my place. you know, briefly, i thought about showing up at his apartment. i was too drunk to have put that in motion. would have to unblock etc. probably wouldn’t have worked. it’s funny thinking about it. like showing up and buzzing his apartment at 4 AM when he has work at 8 AM. i really wasn’t actually thinking it but it is amusing. the ways i missed him. the way i missed him was in the physical intimacy. i always felt comfortable with him even at the end.
disarming. i told him that. that when i met him, i thought he was disarming.
maybe because i was so drunk, i kept thinking about the last time i was perhaps so drunk and took the train to see him. it was from the alumni event with the cocktails. i must have had like 4 or 5 old fashioneds. i was always going to go see him after but i remember taking a photo for him on my way. how i told him i wanted him inside me, how my texts were coherent but littered with extra punctuation that made no sense. and how when i went up the elevator to his place he had been waiting for me. the only time he ever did that. he had waited for me and i had melted into his arms and he had tried to give me water and i had insisted that i wasn’t drunk. that i wanted him to caress me and kiss me. how it was a free for all. i wanted it all. i wanted to live. i wanted to be held. i wanted to hold him. i wanted him against me. i wanted everything. that was at the beginning of may. the cusp of something. cusp of summer.
i think about that night a lot. i used to think about that night a lot before everything had crumbled. i thought about that night because that was when i realized i liked him. i hadn’t cared before. hadn’t really cared at all. it wasn’t serious. i mean, it still wasn’t serious but that was the night that i realized he was a person, he had a history, he had some story, he had secrets. i wanted to know more about his family. i remember him saying that he thought his mom was depressed, that she drank a lot, and i wanted to know why. i wanted to know the details though i didn’t dare ask. i told him about my own family. what it was like growing up.
and the next day we were both in bliss when we parted. i had a job interview at 10 AM the next day. i only know this because i wrote it in my texts. i had been hungover. i remember now. it was a throwaway interview. i had already secured a job. i hadn’t really wanted that one but i thought i’d do the call anyway. i had kept thinking about the night. my throat had hurt the next day. i had texted the group chat about it. i never felt like he was mine. it felt like fun. i was excited for the summer. i thought it would be an enriching summer and it was.
i miss that. i miss how i felt. i miss who i thought he could be. i miss learning about someone and wanting to know everything about them. that was intellectual intimacy, i suppose. i thought it was mixed with emotional intimacy but i’d soon learn that it was all a disappearing act. i miss him. but i don’t miss the anxiety of being chosen. i never thought i had him. i was always trying to prove myself and at the time it never seemed enough, never seemed to matter. this was right before i got covid. i wanted to do all these things with him. watch sports, etc.
i’ve thought about how we spent time together. a lot of talking. i liked that. the easiest person to talk to. i could talk about anything. i felt so safe. i still felt safe at the end to speak my mind. even when i knew it didn’t actually register, even when i knew that it wouldn’t be taken to heart, even though it was like talking to a wall. i think the only times i didn’t feel safe was when i felt unwanted, and in those moments, i did feel like i couldn’t bring things up. but they were always in the context of being around other people. it’s like we were a secret. and maybe that’s what it was. he was one way with me and then for the rest of the world, i was nothing. and now he has to navigate a life where he has to act like we were nothing, which is fine. but now he is hurt and we no longer talk. and so the illusion isn’t there anymore. all our friends know. they all know what prompted the divorce. they all sided with me. i don’t feel alone anymore. that meant something in the end. to have the support of friends. they’ve advocated and supported me and cared for me and validated me in a way that he never could, and i almost didn’t see the value in that or the discrepancy. all i wanted was to be worthy and he was the one who granted that, who relieved me of my anxiety however temporarily. god of small things, but by no means benevolent. i miss the highs. i miss the highs so much. i made the best of traversing the lows. at points i felt so low. i don’t miss that. i miss him still. is that weird?
i miss what we used to do together. i miss maybe what i thought was a reflection of my self-worth. that someone wanted to spend time with me all the time. someone wanted to hang out with me of all people. someone liked me. i wanted him to like me as much as i liked him. what an impossible task. and even now i guess i don’t know where we stand on that. i wonder if he ever liked me that way. i liked him in a way that wasn’t necessarily romantic. i wouldn’t describe it like that. i fought for him, i played the role of protector. i wanted the best for him. i constantly wanted the best for him. i was constantly rooting for him. he never appreciated it. like he never ever appreciated it.
tenminutethoughts 