I keep writing e-mails and deleting them. Composing them in my head, and then remembering I can’t send them. Not anymore.

I find something cool that Mike would like, and then have to let it go because I can’t tell him about it. Or I hear something, or have a question for him. He’s brilliant, you know.

Actually, it’s the uncomposed e-mail that’s bothering me the most. I’m not sure what to do about it.

It’s just little things I wish I’d said, or stuff about our last conversation that was said in the heat of the moment that I wish I’d not said. Or perhaps said differently.

Of course, there are things I wish he’d said. Or not said. Or would say. My phone just rang, and I nearly jumped out of my chair. I keep thinking, man! Didn’t I mean anything to him? And then I realize, yes, but no. Not enough, anyway.

I’m sure he loved me in his own way. With what resources he had available at the time. I don’t understand, though, this duck-and-run thing. There was so much there, available for the asking.

I’m such an incurable romantic. I keep hoping he’ll show up at my house, or at my office. I keep hoping he’ll call in the middle of the night to say he’s thinking about me.

Pfft.

Pride inevitably gets in the way. I don’t know if he would be comfortable ever calling again, because of things that are just hanging out there right now.

I wish I could let him know that if he wanted to talk, I’d be willing to listen.

But I can’t. And I’m frustrated because my hands are so tied and I hate being thwarted.

THWARTED!

Max and I used to use that term, way back when, when we couldn’t get our own way. I’m realizing how we were both selfish people, Max and I. Bad combination by any stretch of the imagination.

I’m still selfish. But I’m working on it.

Ugh. No outbound e-mail tonight. No outbound calls, no nothing. Tiff says a clean break is the best. *sigh* He’ll call me if he wants to. He’ll write if he wants to. I don’t need to do anything at all. (That’s what I keep telling my heart, anyway.)

If it’s meant to be, it will be. That’s what everyone keeps telling me. And I’m sure they are right. *sigh*

It just hurts a little right now.

In hell,

michelle