…nah. Not a bad person on that date, just missing a key ingredient that I’ll call “fire.”
I don’t mean “spark” or “chemistry.” For me, spark and chemistry come from intelligence and humor. Smart and funny were present.
I mean fire. I mean a passion to just enjoy the hell out of life. My favorite people, lovers and friends, all want to raise a glass to that gorgeous sunset or sunrise, notice the details, enjoy the moment. My tribe gets excited about whatever makes them happy. Maybe I misunderstood, but I sure got the feeling that this person wouldn’t want to “waste” a special occasion on a new person, while I approach life with the idea that every day, every moment, is a special occasion.
It’s no giant secret that I miss an ex of mine so fiercely that I can hardly stand people who aren’t him. I know that’s a wound that time will heal eventually, but it is that perpetual elephant always lurking in the room. I was so open and so brave in that relationship, and I thought we could get through anything together. I believed in happily ever after. I’ve wanted him back since the moment we parted ways. I’ve worked on it, grieved, made peace with it 150 times over, but I miss him.
Tell him? He knows. Loving someone enough to let them go is gut wrenching. If I am not his happy place, let it be known I loved him enough then and love him enough now to want him to be happy. I bow my head, make a wish to love like that again, and keep on keepin’ on.