I thought I’d feel betrayed or ugly or stupid or something. But he actually handled it very well. I am disappointed (gee whiz, I’m not THAT healthy!) but not devastated. As I mentioned repeatedly — and can’t seem to stop mentioning, vain fuck that I am — I had standbys in the wing, ready to console me.

I know. Ha! I’m a mess!

So anyway, I may write a few more poems about him… but as usually happens in the few cases where my feelings aren’t returned in kind, that feeling is fading. I can only hold a torch to someone for so long before it starts to go out on its own.

You see what I did there. Flame. Torch. Never mind…

As always, if nothing else, I have got some seriously beautiful poetry out of it. They’re the ones tagged flame poetry.

Unexpectedly? It’s a little bit of relief. Again, not VERY, I’m truly not that together. But in the back of my mind, I feel like had my feelings been returned in kind, it threw all kinds of other complications into the mix. Was I going to move across the country Again for love?

Would I have potentially derailed myself? Because as I said, I knew very clearly that if he’d said, okay, great, come to me, I would have been on the next flight, no kidding. Potentially repeating the same cycle that brought me here. In a healthier situation, yes, but still not necessarily a healthy choice.

The point is, the more i run “what if it had worked out” scenarios in my head, the more I find ways that it wouldn’t have. Which is good. Because now I don’t have to sit here and convince myself it’s all for the best. Because in all likelihood, it is.