05.11.05 - 1:32 a.m.

i wonder when it will stop being hard seeing him.

there is something so familiar about him that it is painful to not throw my arms around him, like seeing a long lost friend on the street and pretending like youve never met.

and he was there with his girl, doing the same thing with her that he did with me; looking at her like she is the only thing in the world, touching her leg, not talking to anyone but her, driving home with her.

and i didnt see him until the last minute, when i went to go pay my tab, and i looked over and there he was with the girl, but i didnt even see the girl at first, i just saw him, and his familiar body, face, hair, clothes, the way he sits. I cant explain it, but maybe the most hurtful thing about ending a relationship is seeing that person out in the world, still living and not visibly changed.

Tonight with john and the other boy who owns a county in alabama, they were telling me that when you break up with somebody that part of them is dead and so you mourn, but there is nothing left to love, there is nothing left. And while i think that is a very guy thing to say, i wish that i could subscribe to that mindset. I dont know what is taking me so long to get over s. I am still living, i got a 4.0 in graduate school, i still have friends, laugh with them, cook dinner for them, i still make decisions, i still take a shower every night before i go to bed, but there is still a FULLY functioning part of my brain that is dedicated to s. Dedicated to him, to us, to what we were, to what went wrong, to all the things that he said, to all the things that i said, to all the hours that we spent together.

And earl, bless his fucking heart, like my little guardian angel, there at the bar when nothing at all seems worse, he is there, telling me, "he doesnt deserve you." And hes been friends with s for MUCH longer than he has known me, and somehow, he is the salve in between the bar and walking out the door.

And then there were the alabama boys, who, when i said i was ready to go and prepared myself for doing so, wouldnt DREAM of letting me walk home by myself. And maybe its not that theyre from alabama, maybe its just that their head is in the right place. And when county boy who went to Brown told me he had a wonderful girlfriend the social scene settled just fine, i pulled back, john stepped in, we readjusted, we left the bar, and they walked me home.

Of course s was waiting for someone that he could wait on. That was all he had. I romance the idea of him waiting for me at the bar on new years eve, sitting there on a bar stool waiting for me, but he was waiting for me because i was all he had, and now poor girl with the jeep is all he has and maybe that is how it will go forever. Johns girlfriend will always be a mobil-lionare, and he is in the city. S may always be a thirty year old balding bartender, and maybe all i will ever be is a writer who cant wake up in the morning, but i guess the thing is. we make the decisions we think we need to make and we keep waking up in the morning.

But god, it was hard to see his back, and i dont know if that will ever be easier because i have seen that same back one million times; naked, asleep, pouring drinks, sitting in a chair, pouring coffee in my apartment in the morning, in the shower, in his uniform...i have seen that back a million times, but i cant hold him anymore. We dont talk, we dont acknowledge each other, its just so weird, ive never experienced anything like this before.

and i still miss him, goddammit. i do.

but the good thing is, at this point, i trust that time is going to take care of it. I dont trust that my heart wont break when i see the back and arms that i cant touch again, but time heals. It is healing so far, i know that it is. This time wasnt as hard as last time.

And thats the thing, this time wasnt as hard as last time.

And it helps that i have good people around me, that respect what i do and who i am and remember my birthday. Even little josh, who bought ice cream for my birthday in twenty days because he wont see me again, did a better job than s might ever have.

And it does get easier.

And maybe its easier because i know that i am going to have a break from the city and from memories over the summer, but seeing him tonight was like uncovering a picture i hadnt seen in years, moving somehow, but inapplicable.

Inapplicable, and if your twenties are ANYTHING other than choosing what is and is not applicable, then please let me know.

His shirt, his face, his cigarette smoke that left a blue grey trail like a reminder, but then the car he got into to leave and its just another girl with a car who will drink with him at one a.m.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly, i am catching on.

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