You miss 100% of the chances you don’t take…

The romance is over. We are still friends…. that is all she wants. At least I took a chance.

It will take me a lot longer to get to that level. I, for better or for worse, gave her my heart in December. She will always have it. I don’t know how to un-love someone, so this is a “wound” that will take a long time to heal. From experience, I know that time is the only thing that can heal this, and absence from her is the best bandage.

I am one who loves to stay in touch with the past. I like nostalgia. I have always believed that having a past strengthens the future. It establishes a sense of tradition… a foundation, perhaps. I believe that history is what adds to value in building a future.

She, on the other hand, is one that simply collects experiences, and rarely looks back. She appreciates tradition and history, but in architecture and culture, not in the capacity of human experiences, or at least not in romance.

I love her world, but a part of me, as much as I don’t want to admit it, knows that I have no place there. I can’t help but feel rejected. It makes me wish I’d never encountered this romance in the first place.

The one question I have is: Why ‘tease’ me with this? What purpose did it serve?

The journey ahead will be difficult. Summer will be here soon, and I hope by then I will be able to move on.

I just want to breathe again. Free of the chains that made me love her.

When the storm calms

This is a picture from our recent trip together.

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I am at peace. I now know she loves me, and will let this grow. Strange how the beast within every man can be tamed so quickly.

This poem reflects where I am now.

Where my path leads

Eludes my sight

I know only

The peace from glimpses

Of your footprints

Alongside my silhouette

As I wander unsure

Into steps of tomorrow

 

 

In gratefulness know

This promise I bestow:

Brave all winds ahead

And stand resolute

For you need just whisper

And know I am by your side

My hand, yours to hold

I am with you

Always

A last dance?

We made love for the last time on Friday.

I will never understand women.

It was unexpected, considering we officially ended everything on Monday, and she had been rather cold since then. She has been in control of this relationship the whole time, and to be honest, as much as I wanted to be around her, it has been the most painful experience I’ve ever had. I suffered for 4 months. Emotionally, socially, spiritually…… it was painful. I lost me.

On Tuesday night, I went to her house to talk to her. I cried and expressed my broken heart, and how I wish things could be different. She remained cold, and said that she had always told me since the beginning that she never wanted a relationship. I asked for a final kiss goodbye, and left. I swore to myself that I would never love again.

We had dinner “as friends” on Thursday. Yes, I missed her, and wanted one last dinner. She was sociable, but remained cold on any attempt at physical contact. She firmly said to “keep your hands to yourself”. I was destroyed. Ok…… enough. No more.

I made final arrangements to come to her house the next morning to pick up some articles I left at her house.

At 10am I arrived, picked up my things, and agreed to have a quick coffee and small breakfast that she prepared. 20 minutes later. After eating, I thanked her, gathered my strength, and said goodbye as I prepared to walk out the door.

Unexpectedly, she pulled me in for a hug. After 3 seconds, I said, “I can’t do this,” and tried to pull away.

She then pulled me closer, held me tighter, and started to cry. Then I broke down and cried with her, and cursed,

“Damn it! WHY are you doing this? I was just committed to finally walking away forever…. and you do this?? FUCK. WHY?”

……

2 hours later we made love……

I don’t understand…. anything.

Sometimes flowers just die…

I don’t regret anything.

I fell in love for the fiirst time in almost 20 years. It was thrilling…. painful… exciting…. overwhelming…. eye-opening… and ultimately, tiring.

There is too much imbalance in this relationship. A friend advised that I was being somewhat of an emotional bully by pouring out all my feelings of passion and romance, when she wasn’t ready at all. It consumed me, and overwhelmed her. There can be no happy ending here. But at least I’ll have the memories.

We both decided to end this romance, but slowly over the next few weeks so that I can gradually build a wall around my heart and stand alone again.

I’ll never understand the purpose of romance when it often results in heartbreak and despair. But I’ve accepted that sometimes, that’s just the way life is.

Like flowers. We can look at them, smell them, and touch them. But if you try to possess one, and try to take it for yourself, it withers away.

It’s a riddle I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand, but one that I think I have to learn to accept.

Sometimes flowers just die.

The only other thing I can do is accept one of Dr. Seuss’ quotes:

“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Daunted

I tried to end the relationship yesterday.

I had planned it for several days, and was to conduct it in the most mature, gentlemanly way I could. I took her out to a nice dinner, followed by dessert wine at a traditional French cafe.

She is wonderful company, and a wonderful friend. For all the frustration and anxiety I have felt from a romantic, intimate perspective, she truly is a wonderful person, and is a great friend to anyone that needs an honest, trustworthy person in life.

Realizing this, I failed.

Towards the end of the night, I found myself asking her to spend a night of intimacy with me.

I am not just in love with her. I think I truly love her.

Even though I know this will not last, I am choosing to hold on for now, with the hopes that when it does indeed end, I am strong enough to watch her walk away.

I composed a different kind of piece to reflect this raging storm of frustration in my head. When the time comes, and the romance ends, I hope the music I hear will be of serenity and calm.

Getting my ass kicked by my heart…

I’m not in as much pain as I was a couple weeks ago, but I still have moments of overwhelming emotion that try to take over what fledgling sanity I have now to keep me going.

We just took a trip to a snow resort in the mountains, where we went to the spa, did a bit of snow tubing, and even zip-lined through the top of the snow forest. I capture some of the majestic scenery in the video I’m attaching to this blog. I composed this piece a few years ago, but now finally have the right pictures to go with it.

She doesn’t want me. She still tells me she only wants the experiences, but nothing more.

Alas, I think I have to start letting go of this, as much as it hurts. Am I a fool for falling in love with someone so elusive, or is it simply a case of wanting what I can’t have that drives me to the brink of insanity?

Seeking the mother tree…

I confessed my situation to my mother the other day. I had to. The emotional trauma of my romance is too much for me to bear alone, and I needed someone to talk to. I also realized that my mother, a very practical, successful businesswoman, was married for 50 years to the only other person I know that was like me. He died many years ago, and I prayed that through their marriage, she would hold the key to helping me live normally again, to tell me what to do, and how to breathe.

What I didn’t expect, especially from a strict catholic woman, was the most realistic parental advice I had ever heard. She grew up with 7 older brothers, and understood that most men, by nature, have a natural hunter instinct, that no amount of civilized society can completely eradicate. We live by thrill, threat, and hunger. All 7 of her brothers went through what I am going through now. She herself, was also the second wife of my father, who found in her a large part of his life that he didn’t even know was missing.

As conflicted as she is about living a strict catholic life, she understood my pain, and advised me to do what I had to do and pursue this romance, with the hope that hunter instinct would eventually return to a dormant state.

While this doesn’t give me a practical solution to taming my passion, it does comfort me that I’m not alone, and as much as I don’t like what I’m doing, some things just need to run their course.

Wherever this road leads, I just want to breathe normally again.

A composition for Her

When I first realized my capture a month ago, I woke up in pain, daily. She was always there, in my mind’s eye, in every breath I took, in everything I saw.

I would force myself to sleep early just to stop thinking about her, just to stop the overwhelming wound growing in my chest. It was something I had never felt before in all my years.

I was a trained musician as a child, and during those few weeks, when I had lost the complete will to live, I heard this music in my head. I finally composed it, and added visual scenes of places that I had either been with her, or when I thought of her most.

What you’ll hear is the most honest, genuine thing I have ever created in my life.

My Vanquish

– My Vanquish –

You are my all

My very self

My journey was fearful

Only to make me more eager

And I was wrong

Thus is the fate of one

Who tries to embrace a free spirit

I weep when I reflect

That I will no longer share

The way we once

Danced on clouded waters

My thoughts go out to you

Now and then joyfully, then sadly

Knowing fate has dismissed me

I am resolved to wander

Though my essence fades

My fidelity to you shines still

No one else can ever possess my breath

Never misjudge this most faithful heart

Ever thine

Ever mine

Ever ours

Doomed from the Start?

In the game of romance, trying to possess a free spirit is a futile quest hat leads only to vulnerable solitude. The pursuit is understandable, as the hunt for an elusive prey is the greatest addiction known to man, but which has also ultimately led to his own downfall. Biblical and literary history accounts several notable examples: Captain Ahab and the great white whale Moby Dick; Samson and Delilah in the bible; sailors and sirens in ancient sailor folklore; Icarus and flight in Greek mythology.

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These hunters and questers have come close, but in the end, have all met with downfall.

This girl has captivated me. Captured me. She is the last thought before I sleep, and the first when I awake. I draw short breaths when I think about times we are apart. But I have grown to realize that she is one that can never be possessed. She has told me many times that her love and affection have to be given by her free will, and not taken any man. I fear I lack the strength to control my passion. Passion… my greatest strength, has also become my greatest enemy.

I fear that I must find a way to end this quest, but I wonder if I will be able to find the strength to do this. I pray for strength, courage, and the will.