Posted August 15th, 2003 by Michelle

No colposcopy today. Union Square got power at 7 PM tonight, which means my restaurant was shut down from Thursday evening until Saturday night. Four shifts lost, at least $40,000 down the drain for the house itself, and four shifts of rent money for me and mine. It’s a big deal. I don’t know how soon I can reschedule my colposcopy appointment, considering I had to wait almost a month for this one, and I fear that my Peace Corps application is losing time faster than I can crawl my way back to wanting it to happen.

I’d like to mark that right now, today, Saturday at the wee hour of 12:45 AM, I give up. I officially give up hope. I know I’ve been sketchy in the details all along in the matter of love, but after a full day of breaking down and then the simplest conversation with Sean and Jordi, I’ve realized that saying that all of this happened for a reason is the understatement of the century. The entire world conspired to bring myself and said man together, at the right time in both of our lives, in the perfect place to get to know each other amidst loved ones and friends, the perfect occasion to let loose, and he looked the gift horse in the mouth, turned, and walked away.

I wrote a few days ago about the few chances for happiness, and I found myself finally ready to grab for the golden ring. I grabbed and held on and only tonight, on the way home from a day of movies and family, did I realize I have to let go. Everything was laid out before us, the farmhouse brimming and then spilling over with possibility. It was the perfect time, a golden opportunity, a chance, and let’s be honest, for ALL parties involved to find a new level of happiness. Everyone who cares about this man would have been better off in the end, everyone would have found something better for themselves, could have found love in all of its many forms. But I’m not in charge. So although it will be a long time, and maybe never, before I stop caring deeply about this person, before I have a day without losing it, it’s bound to get better. Like I told him, it’s not the worst I’ve been through, and though it’s terrible, I’m going to make it.

I’m not saying that I can turn off my feelings. I’m saying that I’ve realized that hope and possibility were presented, and then denied, and that it’s already time for me to see the meaning in that. If it was going to happen, it would have. I was lamenting tonight, knowing I was being childish, asking what I had done to deserve this. I tend to punish myself when I feel like I’ve misbehaved or been unkind, and I could see no justification, no reason in my love-torn life that I should have to feel this way, particularly after mere days of goodness. And then I realized that I need to let these weeks go, need to see them as fun as opposed to tragic.

Gentle readers, I apologize. I cannot speak to him so my salve is writing to you. I’m hoping to move this despair from the front of my mind, just behind my eyes, to a back burner where it will simmer until it finally goes out. That being said, I’m hoping to have no more nightmares, and to go back to my life.