I’ve come to the realization that the reason why God keeps showing me what I want is because he doesn’t want me to have it.  He keeps showing me S and giving me just a few precious moments as punishment.  People like me don’t deserve to be happy.  People like me don’t deserve to have babies and grow old with their soul mates because I’m not  good enough for that.

Good people don’t cheat or lie.  Good people don’t write stupid blogs like this. 

I can’t have S because I don’t deserve always and forever with my soul mate.

I just finished the second draft of my essay for class.  I’m going out on a ledge and writing about our last visit.  I didn’t give real dates or times and I didn’t get sex graphic.  I just talked about some of the things we discussed.  It’s the second piece I started about our relationship.  I actually like it better than the first but I’m not ready to give up on the first just yet.  I need more time to process it all.

I haven’t heard from S in a few days.  I emailed him last night but got no response.  I’m not sure what that means.  I’m trying not to over-react.  I just wish he’d give me more information.  I wonder if it’s worth the trouble but then I swore I’d never leave him.  I’m lonely. 

The days are stretching on and though they’re filled with last essays, new supervisor demands and Christmas shopping I still feel empty.  In the night nothing can distract from the loneliness, loss and sadness.  I’ve been taking more and more vicodin to knock myself out and my system is becoming more and more immune. 

I have no doubt he loves me I just have doubt that we’ll ever be together.

Got back from SA around 7 p.m.  The Husband was home so I didn’t get my customary, “moment of mourning.”  I resorted to hiding in the bathroom for 10 minutes with the water faucet running, crying and look at S’s picture on my cell phone. 

While whimpering I messaged Olive, Stevie and Glass that I was back and was not happy about it.  Stevie sent back a message, “hahaha” which I know wasn’t her making light of my sadness but felt the need to cry to someone beyond the 4 walls of the bathroom.  

I confessed that every time I come back it becomes glaring obvious that I no longer belong in this town and that my heart breaks every time I have to leave S behind.  I can’t stay in SA because he’s moving around and it’s not safe.  I don’t regret the past few months I just wish it would get easier instead of harder.  And Stevie gave me the advice that only a best friend can give,

“Don’t focus on what you can’t do.  Focus o what you can do, and there are things you can do.  Try to get your debt paid off and get stable so if he is free to go where he wants you can be ready.”

So, with that in mind I closed the picture of S, wiped my eyes, turned off the faucet and headed out of the bathroom to face the rest of the damn day. 

She’s right there’s not much I can do but what I can do is pretty fucking important.  I need to get my debt paid or at least, down before I can run away.  

I also need to focus on the rest of this semester.  I’ve done pretty good thus far but it’s not over yet and I need to get through the last 3 weeks.  Otherwise, I’ve wasted 3 months and dropped my GPA.  

I’m reminded of something Olive said a few days ago when I was still in SA pining to see S again.  I mentioned that I understood his trying to protect me from what was going on but it felt like I was being hidden away.  She suggested that perhaps he wasn’t only protecting me from himself or the problems he’s having but also from the friends he’s staying with.  He’s talked about them and though they don’t sound dangerous anyone has the potential to be dangerous at this moment.   

So, I just need to get a grip again.  I need to focus on paying down debt, finishing school and accepting that what he does he does for his son and me.  I just wish I could help.  And yes I know doing the other stuff is helping in an obtuse way but damn I’d like to do more than just this.  *sigh*

Last night I arrived in SA around 6:30 p.m.  I promptly messaged S to tell him and then headed out to dinner with my mother as I hadn’t eaten since about 11 a.m.

After dinner we came back to my mother’s apartment and I got online to check email, facebook and hopefully chat with S.  I told him that I wished I could see him but understood why it wasn’t possible.  He then said we could if I really wanted to.

So, I got to see him something I hadn’t expected to but am still thrilled about.  We only had a few hours together as he had to get back to where he’s staying but it was worth the time. 

We cuddled, kissed and talked about the present and the future.  I asked him if we were ever going to be happy together forever and he said he hoped so.  Then he pulled me tighter to him and said, “I’m sorry things are so fucked up right now.”  I smiled up at him and replied, “It’s okay.  Besides, it wouldn’t be us if it weren’t fucked up.”  He laughed, kissed me and pulled me tighter still.

I spent an hour running my fingertips over his face hoping to memorize the feel of his skin and the smile on his face.  We whispered I love you to each other to many times to count.  I promised him again that there was nothing he could do or say that would even make me stop loving him.  He kissed me.  I could feel all his emotions pressing against my lips; expressing his gratitude and love for me in just that kiss. 

We talked about having children.  I told him I would never take his child from him.  His arms constricted around me.  I want a girl and he wants another boy.  I asked him why he wanted another son when he already had one.  He said, “Because I want to be able to at least, raise one of my sons.”     

But the time was up too soon and I had to say good-bye.  I didn’t cry just pulled him closer to me and said, “I love you.” 

We’re  hopeful that this mess will be behind us by January, the start of the new year.  I’m going to keep hoping and praying.  All I want is to be happy with him.

S finally got a new way to communicate.  He’s not living where he was and I’m not sure where he’s at.  If I asked him where he was rather than lie he’d tell me but I know he doesn’t want me to know for my own protection.  It use to bother me that I was something of a slight secret.  People know that I’m a friend but they don’t know I am the “someone special.”  That use to bother me but now it feels like a blessing.  No, official will think to come to me and when he makes his way here no one will think to look here. 

So, I’m happy that I can finally talk to him again but today is the anniversary of my father’s death.  

It’s been 3 years since I got the call that he was gone.  This time 3 years ago I was probably writing a blog on MySpace distracting myself from really accepting what the ramifications of his not being here were.  It’s been 3 years and I can say that I didn’t really seem to understand what was happening until I was 10 feet from his coffin and I could see the putty colored head that was supposedly his.  I stopped mid-step and ran out of the room and never went up to that coffin.

I don’t regret the choice, if you can call it a choice.  Perhaps it was more an act of self-preservation, either way I don’t regret it.  That memory remains shadowed and vague as the rest of that night.  What shines bright is his living moments.  Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s, wrestling in the living room, water gun fights, those are important.

I think about the fights we’d had trying to remember what started them and why they seemed so crucial.  I try to remember why I hated him for so long but it’s gone.

Maybe it’s the glorification effect, we erase and forget all the sins and only remember the good things or maybe it’s because we’d forgiven each other years before his death.  I was luckier than some.  I grew up and he grew older and we both accepted that we’d fucked up and we apologized for our fuck up.  I was damn lucky some people never get that chance.

But even with all that I have to ask, “Why did he have to go so soon?” 

S has no answers.  He says I’m luckier than him.  His father died when he was a toddler.  He has no memory of the man. 

I guess everyone is lucky in one way or another.

…for the occupation of the mind.  I emailed S on Thursday and received a reply the following morning.  He is safe and staying with friends, the heat is still on. 

Something in that message seemed to calm my nerves more than they have been in weeks or perhaps I’ve resigned myself to know that we will never be together.  I can’t see myself ever being in love with anyone else including the Husband and for that reason it allows me to stay exactly where I’m at.  I’ve lived these past years loving The Husband but not being in love.  I can live a few more years.  I’m not staying long-term just until either 1. I get closer to my MA graduation (which incidentally is in May 2011) or 2. I can’t stand it anymore.   

I know I may never have S in my life and the moments we shared over the course of 12 years may be all that we were alloted for this life time.  It’s not fair and I hate it and honestly there are times when I wished I’d never met him, loved him or him love me.  It’s not because I didn’t feel complete but because that completion has been taken away from me.  I would rather go without knowing than to have felt such exquisite love and exquisite pain so quickly after.

Now I lie awake at night, my eyes closed imagining the pillows next me are his sleeping form.  i try not to touch them or move to close because the illusion will be broken and reality will flood my mind pushing tears out of my eyes.  I miss him and love him so much. 

But as I said at the beginning distractions make for the occupation of the mind.  Yesterday I was so busy at work I didn’t have time to continually check for any signs of him.  I put up a random quote that would illicit his attention and give me comfort that he was around and sending out a silent sign that he was checking up on me.  He was pushed out of my mind by a 12 page paper due Wednesday and it wasn’t until tonight that I had my first chance to acknowledge my twisted heart.  He acknowledge my quote and sent out a quiz on Facebook, calling me a genius.  He flatters me.  The other quiz question asked if he thought I enjoyed life.  He said, “yes” I said he was delusional.  I only pretended to keep people from asking too many question.  I refrained from telling him I only enjoy life when he’s around, it would have hurt him too much.

So tomorrow I will be pushing him out of my head again in favor of this damn paper which is now 4 1/8 pages long.  I’m tired of it and wish I could fast forward to the end but i have to add the other 7 7/8 pages.  I hope I can.

I’m having trouble using explorer to access Facebook so I decided to use my alternate server (or whatever you call it) Foxfire. 

I type in Facebook which drops down from the web address bar, meaning it’s already been used on Foxfire.  So when the page loads in the email address is S’s email, only it’s not the yahoo email that I’ve sent emails to.  it’s a gmail account.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to log into his Facebook because didn’t save the password. 

It’s like deja vu with C.  Things being kept from me.  Things I want to know about.  Things that I probably shouldn’t go looking for but things all the same.

I wonder if Olive can find anything, she’s crafty.  Stevie would tell me to get a grip and don’t go seeking trouble.

The problem is my emails are going unanswered and I’m going past upset to just down right pissed.  This is probably the most dangerous time for me.  I’m prone to juvenile, self-destructive behavior.  I’m prone to one night stands followed by fits of tears. 

I hate this side.

It’s only been about a week since my already precariously balanced world came crashing down on me but it feels like I’ve been living in this doom for years.

I became desperate again for some sign of love and devotion and though i managed to get it I also got a stern email saying that if I kept up the hysterics then we couldn’t go on.  I’ve been good for all of 2 days and I feel the hysterics coming on again.

But it’s a slightly different theme this time.  I’m not worried about his love for me, I’m worried about never seeing him again.  I’m afraid that we’ll only exists together as a never fulfilled dream.  I don’t want Halloween weekend to have been our last time together.  As beautiful and precious as that weekend was it’s all so poignant that to think about it causes physical pain. 

Our conversations exists as comments on Facebook statuses or vague distant emails.  I have so many questions but fear the answers while knowing I’ll never actually get answers.  I find myself looking for some kind of contact, anything to cling onto in order to feel physically connected even though it’s not really physical.

I emailed tonight explaining my frustration at not know what to say or ask and having so much to say and ask.  I don’t know what’s safe and unsafe.  I don’t know what’s normal and not normal. 

I keep thinking about a conversation we had once where I asked questions he didn’t want to answer because it could be bad for me he quoted Michael Corleone, “Don’t ask me about my business, Kay.”  I joked back, “Ok Micheal.”  He laughed.  It seems that conversation has become more than a light-hearted warning it’s become a harsh reality and it makes me wonder, how did Kay Corleone do it for all those years?  Granted she finally got to a breaking point but still it took at least 15 years for her to break.  So how did Kay Corleone do it? 

Today I decided to send out a text message to my friends asking for an impromptu girls’ night.  We ended up at Glass’s place eating chicken spaghetti which I don’t like in general but actually liked when made by Glass. 

I got a lot of my thoughts and feelings out in the open.  I love Stevie and Olive but I think I needed to hear Glass’s objective opinion.  For some reason she is always able to put her own personal feelings aside and give an objective opinion based on facts and past and present events.  S is on the same page as me and that’s good.  It sucks that we’re going through the new issues and they are some of his own making.  She’s more concerned with local state problems than the problems out-of-state.  I’m still concerned about both.

Olive and Glass both gave me good advice on how to get back in more reasonable contact with him but he’d probably flip that I’m trying because he’s trying his hardest to keep me out of it all.  Secondly, I know myself and I’d do something to lead anonymous contact back to me, so I’m not going to try.

I expressed my deepest secret, calling it all quits, and Glass said it was my brain trying to signal my self-preservation skills.  Something in that statement made me defiant, not against her but against my brain being a fucking wimp.  I’m not going to tuck my tail between my legs and run away because the going is getting tough.  I’ve been through worse and I never ran away.  I’ve been physically abused by one man and mentally abused by another and I faced both those head on no matter how many tears were involved.  I’m not going to run away from this. 

And I can’t run away, not when S needs me the most even if we’re not in the kind of contact that we need or want, at least, I’m here and he knows it.  I swore when we got back together that I would never leave him again and I’m not going back on that word.

The plans S and I made for the holiday have been cancelled because of the issues he’s having.  Our conversations have become fluff on Facebook and strangely coded emails.  Nothing too personal.  It’s painful, when all I really want to do is run into his arms and hold him as tight as possible and never let go.  The more distant we have to be with each other the more desperate I feel. 

This morning I was listening to Glitter in the Air by P!nk.  I smiled as she sang, “you called me Sugar.”  One of his terms of endearment for me is Sugar.  Her voice took me back to lying in bed his arms around me, telling me he’d shaved because I have a habit of running my fingertips over his upper lip and chin.  He said it fucking tickled and the way he said it made me laugh uncontrollably while squeaking out I was sorry and continuing to run my fingers over his face.  He said I wasn’t sorry because I was laughing and still doing it.  I couldn’t argue with his logic considering I was still laughing. 

He called me Sugar.   Will I ever hear him say it again in person or will it remain a vague memory? 

I started to cry when I realized that it may be a very long time before we see each other again.  I always thought the most painful thing was being pushed away after giving him my trust but this is worse.  Knowing that he loves me and wants me but can’t have me is worse.  

I don’t understand why after all the struggles and tears would we finally be on the same plane just to be denied each other.  Haven’t I waited long enough?  Has S proven that he loves, wants and needs me? 

Sugar, no one has ever called me Sugar and if anyone else ever does I won’t let them.