Dear Diary,

Well I forgot to mention I've been having all these sex dreams. I've had a couple about a friend of mine whom I had a crush on for a long time- I was actually deeply attracted to her, but shy about it... and once we spent a day together and she slept at my house and I was so amazed because I was saying to myself, oh my god, she's in my bed! But I didn't do anything about it. And later I found out we were both bi, which we had not known about each other, but by that time she was involved with a woman. I was surely kicking myself, because they went out for years and years. And years.

Then a couple weeks ago I had a dream I was making out with this girl and I called her and just said hey, I was thinking about you, had a dream about you (I didn't tell her what the dream was). She called me back and left a message- she'd just broken up with her girlfriend, and said gee, maybe you had a dream about me because you sensed my life was changing, or something. I was really thinking well, maybe I had a dream about you because some part of me knows you're available! Ha. So while at my parents house I had another dream that I was kissing her and playing with her nipples, it was incredibly erotic, but there was a point where she ceased being turned on and just apologized to me. I said it was okay, but then I woke up.

And so it goes. I just woke from another intense series of dreams involving doggie style sex (with a woman), the price of haircuts and making chicken stock. Slightly bizarre? Maybe.

Also I started cleaning my house because people are coming over. I regret ever inviting them. The only person I really feel like hanging with is Bethany. Really I wished I'd stayed at my parents' and gone to one of the neighbors' parties. I don't feel like dealing with Howard and John. The more I think about them, the more I feel like they are just big baby men who want me to whip out my tit and take care of them. Constantly. It's a drag.

I will rally though and get through it. Cleaning is the first step, but I'm not going to clean too much. Just enough so people fit in the house and there's space to put food down, etc. I'm not going to break my back over it.

Whilst clearing the table I found the delivery confirmation slip for the package I mailed to M. I decided to look it up online and see if that package arrived. As expected, it went to his house and then was delivered to a nearby town. I'm not sure if he actually moved to that town, or if his parents live there. I know he trains in that town, maybe he forwarded all his mail to his trainer? Or maybe he got an apartment closer to his gym and... who knows. I could go on and on with it. The point is I suppose that all his mail, including the card I sent before that, is being forwarded now, that was almost a month ago, and I haven't heard a peep. So either he's sailing around the world trying to discover himself (which wouldn't be a bad thing), or he's close to the same place and stalling doing what I asked.

I am probably just still hooked on the fantasy of who this person could be, not who he really is, so I need to let it go. It doesn't matter, right? And yet I still feel such an intense sadness. There are some that argue that I didn't have closure. Maybe that is true. But not everybody gets the closure they want. Ideally, I would have liked of course, that we would have continued our relationship. That was not possible. Next in line, would be that I would have liked if he had told me what he told me on the phone, "I want to see other people," in person. Because really, he wasn't even seeing me at that point. It is still very hurtful when I think about it. I don't know if having that conversation face to face would have alleviated any pain or made it bad enough to truly break me from him, I don't know if it would have had any catalystic effect at all. I don't know if calling him now and having some sort of conversation would heal anything or solidify it for me. Maybe it would make me feel worse, maybe it would make me glad because I have changed so much, and maybe he is still stuck and rigid and beating up on himself just the same. I do not know, but this was as much as I could do for now. It took me two years to write that letter and put his things in a box. I don't expect anyone to understand, but I don't want to hear any flippant advice about the next thing I should do either. I've already shut myself down to so many people who do not understand how utterly heartbreakingly painful this has been for me.

I am in a state of recovery but there are still shadows of regret and sadness. Although I know I did the best I could do and I showed up pretty well. Even if I had some of the skills I had now, chances are slim that M could meet me halfway anyway. He was just not up to embracing his own process and sorting through his own darkness. I guess most people aren't. I'm of the school of "let's investigate and sort through this shit so we can heal what needs to be healed and move on to a better life" whereas M is from the school of "I don't know how to fix this but I don't want any help because if I ask for help it means there is something truly wrong with me and maybe I can fix it by smoking/drinking/sexing and it will all just go away."

Others have suggested that in our most recent past life together I crushed M's heart and this lifetime it was his turn to break mine. That seems a little myopic, but, again, who knows?

So right now my heart has little band-aids on it. At least most of the wounds have closed up and I'm not actually bleeding all over the place like I was for two years. I feel that there are possibilities with Shelby to heal into the next stage, maybe the last shreds of brokenheartedness. I am aware that I am incredibly afraid and incredibly angry.

FEAR: I fear opening my heart to another man.

ANGER: I am angry about how M ended things, about his distraction and inability. I am angry at the Universe for sending me another guy who just couldn't do it. I am angry at myself because I played a part in allowing that scenario to repeat itself, and I'm angry at myself because I cannot figure out how to stop it. Now I'm at a point where I say I don't really care and I'm not on a quest to find a boyfriend. Part of that feels true but I wonder if that is my fear speaking, or just a sour grapes attitude about relationship, and I'm just fooling myself.

SADNESS: I am sad about being rejected by someone whom I felt I had a great connection with (even though if I looked closely I would see that most of the time that other person was in turmoil about that connection). I am sad that I have never had a relationship last longer than two years, that I am getting older and I don't have anyone to share my life with. Not that I truly want that now (see above fear and anger).

JOY: I am happy that at least I don't wake up every day thinking about killing myself anymore, that I am more okay with being alive. I'm happy about the direction of my work and I'm happy about the opportunity to study with Serena. I'm happy about connecting with Shelby and feeling some hope about how this could better my life. I'm happy about having a strong and healthy body, and that business has picked up and I'm happy about the potential to get out of debt and be in financial integrity with everyone. I'm happy that most of the time I'm doing exactly what I want to do, and I do not feel trapped by what society says. For these things I am happy.

None of it is negative and none of it is positive.

It just is.

Love,
Duck

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