It had been so many years that I'd been in love with him, that I had to squint my mind back in time to remember when I hadn't loved him. Ever since our intense, magnetic, young and spinning love affair, I'd loved him. And in my mind, wholly.
Five years I think, something like that- actually more but it's just too depressing to count the time, so call it five. And then I saw him. He came, unannounced from out of country and somehow landed on my doorstep. I sat, nervously talking and filling up the silence with my chatter. Not knowing what to say and therefore saying whatever came to mind.
It dawned on me slowly and in momentary exchanges; maybe in his gray facial hairs, the decisions he was making that I disagreed with, the immature pastimes I'd passed and he still lingered in-- somewhere in all of it... It dawned on me.
It was over. It was really over and he was really not the man in my mind at all.
And all I could think was, what am I going to do with all of this? All that space in my mind?
I honestly could not find an answer. In the following days I sat silently waiting.
What struck me most was that I was ok with it. I put that dream down, put that memory on my path, looked at it with a sheepish grin, stood up from it, and then I walked on. I think I glanced back once and saw it sitting there. The dream still smiling, but both of us knowing, bigger dreams are ahead of me and that this dream was old, faded, and worn from my mind dragging it along for so many years.
I set myself free, I finally realized.
Maybe realizing that was the answer I thought wasn't coming.
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