Sunday Morning

I missed her a lot this morning. Depressingly. I'm pretty sure I dreamed about her... about being together, about how it felt.

It was a like a little mini-breakup all over again when I woke up. I reached for her and she wasn't there.

:-(

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Spent the evening with TM last night. It was nice getting to know a new person. She's pretty enough, smart enough, and... thoughtful. Down to earth. There are some things I'm curiously hoping won't be big deals if I continue seeing her, but they might prove to be nothing.

She has one major problem, though.

She isn't Mel.

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There is a healthy comparison, right? Like noting someone's attributes and acknowledging that you want that in a mate -- any potential mate.

And then there is just still being heartbroken. There is the state when no woman could ever compare, when no amount of good times or positive attributes really make a difference because you need that taste of history, that notion of shared experience, that under-the-mask knowledge. Intimacy.

There is knowing that even the focus of your affection and heartbreak couldn't fill the hole she herself left. There is having an emptiness so deep its easy to feel helpless to overcome it. There is feeling alone in a room full of people, feeling disconnected while having sex with someone else, and feeling like you don't know yourself even after hours of introspection.

I think this is was they call "devastated". It was that whole day I lost a week and a half ago, the two days of "work" I couldn't even fake through before it, and the inclination to go back to bed at noon in vain hopes that the next dream will present the fantasy you used to believe in.

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I felt like we could both be better people with each other at our sides.

Why was I so naive?