July 16, 2011
I have come to regret reaching out to Pastor last week. Suddenly, I think about him all the time. I remember a few weeks after we broke up a friend ran into him and told me he looked sad. She thought he looked sad because he broke up with me. I believed he was sad because his life makes him sad. It seemed hard to believe he was sad about me at all. It's hard to believe he misses me.
It seems spectacularly unfair to think of him sitting in his apartment, on the couch I helped pick out or eating dinner at the table I signed off on. I think of him cooking dinner with the pots and pans we bought on the way home from CT. Drying off with the towels I picked out. He seems to have gotten everything he wanted and I got my heart tossed around like a ping-pong ball. He did get everything he wanted and yet it turns out he didn't want any of it. I don't believe he misses me at all-- the person he misses is his wife.
I want to refuse, out of principal, to spend time thinking about a man who clearly has no regard for my feelings.
But my heart seems remarkably disinclined to listen to my principals. I miss him. I hope that he's doing okay. I wish he would call.
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