I was thinking about you all day yesterday, i don’t know why, i just was. you in my shower, you and me walking, you’re part of most memories.”

He said those things yesterday and I felt sick. That aching, nauseated feeling was back and I knew it was going to be another few weeks before it would go away. I haven’t written directly about PK in weeks for two purposes. The first being that he loves when things are about him- including this site. He’s terribly (and admittedly) self-absorbed, and I was hoping it would be more hurtful that I hadn’t been mentioning him. The second reason being that it’s not always a one-way street between the brain and the blog. I may write about what’s on my mind, but I’m also going to end up thinking and reprocessing everything I’d written. I’d decided on tabula rasa, to clear both the brain and the blog of him.

And you see how far that’s gotten me.

I shouldn’t be surprised though, because this is how our pestilential and cyclic relationship goes. After a few of his whimpers of missing me I give in. I convince myself that this is the time he will change. It’s a rotten thought, and I usually know I’m wrong even as I’m confessing to missing him as well. But we hardly last a few hours before it’s too much for him.

We’re like Kate and Sawyer and you want us to be Jack and Kate” he writes to me later that evening. Our relationships has always been defined by terrible metaphors and comparisons. We’re like Daisy and Gatsby. We’re Eliot and J.D. We’re every quirky couple that should be together that isn’t for various reasons. His words aren’t exactly poignant, but to me they make sense. It’s our language.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s not him that I want; maybe it’s just the idea. Today a friend of mine got engaged. Last week another friend got engaged. I have friends that are married, friends with babies. Even here in blogland, friends are getting married. I read about Clink picking out bridesmaids gowns, Molly figuring out churches, and KLC picking a date.

And it’s not that I want marriage. It’s that I have friends that are in relationships and are madly in love. So much so that they want to spend the rest of their lives together. I went looking at rings last week with a guy friend, as he was getting a start on looking at some for his girlfriend. “You’re the perfect age to be settling in!” the saleswoman crooned. I may have seizured a bit when she said that, because I’m not at that phase.

I admit: it scares the hell out of me that I have friends that are there. But it scares me even more that I’m still not even ready for the dating life. I have years ahead of me before I’ll be at the stage where they are. It hurts that they have boyfriends sending flowers at work, that they have pictures of them on beaches or at family dinners. They’re reading bits of their stories to each other in bed, or going running together. I have a guy that I love who simply says “you want us to be Jack and Kate”, who occasionally feels a vague sense of missing me. Who is unable to tell me that he loves me to my face (because I really doubt that he does anyway).

I didn’t need any of this today. I have an interview early tomorrow morning for exactly the job that I want. I’m already stressed because the dry cleaners closed 15 minutes early, and my favorite J. Crew suit is sitting behind their counter. I’m stressed because we have a hard basketball game tomorrow, and because the girls couldn’t stop arguing today. I’m stressed because all I want to do is fall asleep without thinking of him tonight, and I know it won’t be happening.

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