A lighter shade of Hubris

Mood: Cleaning out my emotional closet
Music: Golden Boy - Natalie Merchant
Date/Time: Sunday, 28th June, 2009/3:03AM

Men amuse me, this is fact. There is something about these little mind games that men and women play with each other - that amuses me.
I have decided that when you meet someone new - that both parties send their publicist. You send the best possible version of yourself to represent your interests and advertise your message.
Not quite deception, but almost like hubris to believe that anyone is stupid enough to believe you're that perfect.


I maintain that you can spend a life time with someone, and never know the real them - but only the version of themselves that they want you to see. It's a scary thought for anyone, and I think this is a big part of my fear of commitment - trusting myself, the real me with someone else.

There is a man I love, and I use this word in present tense because I believe that I have the ability to love more than one person at a time. I also believe that I will have many more loves in my life time. I also believe that if it was really love, and I mean true love - that it never dies. Love is like energy: it can neither be created nor destroyed, but can be changed into different forms.

But I digress.

The man I love, we had what can only be described as a torrid romance. That really is the best way to put it. Passionate, intense, incredibly complicated and indescribable. I have had two great loves in my life time: he was the second and by far the deepest connection I have had with any man to date.
When one of us would think about the other - the other person would feel it. I could be at home, lying in bed - thinking about him for 10 minutes - and he would call me immediately and be in my bed within the hour - or I would venture to his.

It was an odd thing - that connection. That feeling of being so in love, feeling like we were two halves of something better.
I miss it, I admit that.
I miss what we had.
I miss making love to someone who could practically read my mind and deliver exactly what I wanted.
I miss being with someone who I knew inside out, and who knew me.
But as I said, it was torrid. It didn't end pretty. And on that night we both hurt each other - more than I think either of us can verbalize or apologize for.

And with such a dramatic end to such a beautiful and indescribable thing - why do I find myself on the other end with not only the capacity to forgive and move on - but the ability to love him just the same?

The first night I spoke to him, I told my friends that he is the man I would marry, I proclaimed to everyone at the table that he was going to be my future husband.
And it brings me comfort to think that in some alternate universe or reality - that we are married and are happy.
And maybe in that alternate universe, all those bad things didn't happen between us - and we will never see the ugly sides of each other.

I still love him, and it's amazing to think after going through all we did - that one of us can think about the other - and the other person still feels it.
Last Friday morning I had a dream about him, a dream that I couldn't shake after waking up.
I checked my e-mail - an account I rarely check but had the urge to check that day - and saw an e-mail from him sent the afternoon before. My heart stopped, because I had been thinking about him on and off for a few weeks before - only to find out he had been thinking about me as well.

I do not believe in coincidences, I believe that everything happens for a reason.
I will write about him one day, and it's bound to be a love story for the ages.
...and until then...I've gotten my closure.

Stay tuned, I'm in the process of exorcising a few demons and airing out my closet. You are bound to see me at the most honest you ever will on the internet.

Love,
Ally.

Photo Credit: Breakfast @ Hellshire Beach; One Friday Morning in 2009