Oh, Hello old friend…

27 Jul

I pass certain places in the city that remind me of moments in time I’d like to forget. Most definitely linked to an ex… Or thee ex. During my time in this city there were 3. One of them barely counted, one of them didn’t count and one of them counted too much. Like the taxi receipt machine reminds us of Lost Smoke monsters, I hate that I can’t go to certain parts of the city with out being reminded of how much pain I felt one night on that street, in that restaurant, in that spot on that subway platform. It feels as if every time I’m reminded of said heartache, somewhere out there, he gets a point. While I’ve moved on in the important ways, he’ll always have that part of my memory in which I had felt enormous amounts of pain for a consecutive amount of time. It’s been tough giving up certain restaurants I love for fear of running into “it”. Goodbye awesome Mexican restaurants in Chelsea, so long Energy Kitchen and fare thee well best french onion soup in the city (uh… I’ll have to rethink that one). It’s funny, after we’d go through these long periods of time involving “cleansing ourselves of negative energy” (I.E, each other) I would think up what I would say to him verbatim. I ached for the moment we would run into each other again. The moment he would “accidentally” drunk txt me and we would decide to meet up, I wrote out the entire scene. His dialogue too, because I knew him better than he cared to admit. This time? I’m clueless. I honestly believe I’ll never see him again because I honestly believe no curiosity remains between us. We’ve probably been through every possible scenario of “what if”. Except for the old “what if you actually tried”. But that one’s not his fault, I know now.

Do I miss him? Sometimes. I miss how things were when we were genuinely friends. Genuinely. The big problem was, most of the time neither of us believed the other one was. So those times we actually matched up? That’s what I miss. NY doesn’t often remind me of THOSE times. I wish it did.

“Barely counted” proposed to his girlfriend this week. I’m happy for him, I really am. He deserves nothing short of the girl of his dreams which, I know now, he has. As our mutual friend relayed the information, I know he was looking for a stronger reaction from me. The fact of the matter is, I just can’t take another disappointment. So I’m thankful that the hope is dissolving. It’s like getting that ache surgically removed from myself. The ache that always want someone else. I keep myself busy and I write interesting enough relationships to take the edge off. That’s all I need. For Now. And all I can do is “HOPE” that it stays that way forever.


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