Sometimes things are too perfect. And this can be a recipe for disaster. In his words, the train was rolling along on the tracks so smoothly, so perfectly. And then they just ended. In a roiling, broiling, gut wrenching, beyond describably painful mess. And then what?
This was my fault. It was an accident. Something no one could have foreseen. But it was my fault. And I can't honestly say what I would do in his place. The roil and broil is split equally between the fact that I hurt him so deeply and that, despite the fact that it was an accident, I have slipped so far in his esteem. I cannot take it back. I cannot begrudge him his feelings. But I can hope like motherfucking hell that we can right the train.
I am trying so very hard not to be crazy. Space is important. For both of us. But in that space I am crazed. At times. It's better than it was two weeks ago. It's WAY better than it was a week ago. I think my sister used the word hysterical. But the unknown is so hard.
Call me shallow, but it is hard to know that everyone liked him so much and that everyone liked me so much and now this. Would it be extra special crazy to start a campaign? Like I could post a link to his email and everyone could write and say, "Understanding, of course, that this is going to be a difficult mess to clean up we know that she cares deeply for you. We know that she feels differently about you and that you had softened her to things she said she never wanted. We know that she never would have hurt you knowingly. We have never seen her so excited about someone. Could you please oh please just take this into consideration while you are taking your space? Think hard before you let her go."
