I did the right thing...right?

I'm sure I did the right thing. 

It was awkward. 

Facebook is awkward.  I meet so many people there but only like to talk to them in real life.  Thank goodness its easy to pick me out of a crowd. 

I think I did the right thing. 

I question it too much. 

Yet, I justify my actions.  I'm holding you back.  If you're complaining to a beautiful woman that you have exes that you think about, you're not talking to her about what she likes.  You're not flirting with her.  You're not picking up on her.  You're missing out on an opportunity with her. 

When I saw that I felt horrible.  Could my memory be holding you back?

I did the right thing....right? 

If I did, why do I cry when I have to our hometown to pick up my mail?

This morning a painting of Krishna and his childhood friend Radha made me think of you and cry.  There has got to be something wrong with me.

I miss my friend. 

I wish I could tell you what is going on. You're the only person in the world who knows that I hate politics.  You know that I can't take myself too seriously.  You are the only person in the world who knows who I am. 

You probably figured out that I'm doing what I do to stay safe.  They can't hurt me if I'm in the public eye.  It did put a stop to the overt stalking.  I did find one officer in my yard the day before the lawyers hauled me into their offices to harass me for a day...and I do get hate emails from them...they even had my ex's lawyer harass me to try to get me to stop doing what I am doing. 

They don't want me to stop the political stuff.  They want me to promise not to talk about the psychological impact of what they are doing to their employees and citizens.  They want me to quit my research project. 

I am afraid of these people; I am afraid they are going to hurt my ex and the kids.  The things they've done to other people in my boat scare the crap out of me.  I need to go!

I do what feels right.  I'm probably pissing a heck of a lot of people off in the process.  I was put in a weird position for reasons that I don't understand.  I don't like what I am doing.  It isn't me.

All I can think about is David Byrne singing "how did I get here?"

Then I think of you.   

I have no flippin' clue what is happening to me.  One day I'm told that I am broke.  The next I then learn that I'm flush with money.  One day he tells me to get a divorce.  The next he wants me to stay here.  What in the world is going on? 

My love life is non-existent.  My ex flip-flops more than Obama.  What can I do? 

I cry.  I pray.  I realized that all we really want, deep down, is someone who understands who we are. 

So...I haven't been very nice to you.  I thought I was but I guess I'm just a big snot that owes you an apology.

I thought I was ugly so I pushed you away when you told me I was still pretty.  In that moment, I loved you so much I wanted someone better for you.  The day before, just hours before you called me, my ex let loose and told me some harsh truths about our marriage.  I wasn't ready to let anyone in.  I'm sorry.

I did notice the way you fell against the car as I walked away.  The memory tears me apart.  I hate that parking lot because whenever I'm there, I remember watching you stand there in pain staring into your hands. 

It makes me feel like shit.

You confided in me.  I was afraid to burden you with my crap.  I'm sorry.

Fast forward two years later, I go to lunch with you and feel guilty about what I feel.  When you reached out for me, I pulled back.  I wanted someone younger, prettier, fitter, happier, wealthier, sexier, and baggage free for you.  I was still reeling from things.  I don't understand what happened.  I really want to.  I am terrified of hurting another soul. 

You're my friend.  I love you. 

That's why I cry when you tell me you hurt.  That's why I hate seeing you in pain.  That's why the only thing I ever want for you is to find whatever it is you need.  I keep telling myself that the day will come when your soul is at peace.  You will find the place you need to be and my soul won't hear yours cry out in the middle of the night. 

I know you're in pain.  I dream of it.  It hurts me so much. 

I wish I had handled things better when we were younger...maybe this would never have happened.  Maybe your leg would be fine.  Maybe the man I dated after you wouldn't have broken the fingers on my right hand and messed with my wrist; maybe I could still play bass, or paint, or work out with weights without pain. 

Maybe our hearts wouldn't ache.  Maybe we wouldn't have been hurt by idiots who didn't understand who we are...

Or maybe you and I are actually where we need to be.   

I can't talk about what is happening here.  I don't understand anything.  When I do confide to others, I usually find out than I'm mistaken so I keep to myself.  I don't mean to be guarded.  I just don't know what to do.

I still cry myself to sleep.

I pray my intuitions are inaccurate.  I pray I'm wrong.  I pray you're not in pain.  I pray I'm just jealous because deep down inside I want to believe that you've met your soul mate and are incredibly happy. 

Then, why do I have bad dreams?

I thought cutting you off on Facebook would cure me.  Did it help you?

Do you hurt at 3:00 am, too?

I'd like to let you know that I sleep with my phone. 

I fall asleep about 4:00 am and it starts ringing off the hook around 8:00 or so.  The # I gave will be piped wherever I end up.  It goes to my cell phone.   If I'm at a motel, it will be forwarded to that phone.  If not, my voip computer service will get it.

If you need to talk, I'm here.  I want to be your friend.  I miss you.

This is a standing offer.  If you're good now but hurting at 64...call me.  If I'm still breathing, able to talk and hear you...feel free to call.  I'll still love you. 

If you don't need to talk, then that means you've found what you need.  If you have, then our souls will soon be at peace.   That will be a beautiful thing. 

Love ya,

S.