Saturday 3/13/10

Phantom limb syndrome...that's what it's called. I still feel her, even thought she's not there. I still have hope for our future, even though she doesn't. I still want her, even though she let me go. We talked on the phone yesterday, it cleared up some things. She was unhappy with me, how needy I was. She said she couldn't be herself. I thought we were compromising our of love. I was too needy, she was too independent. We were both working on it. She doesn't like compromise. She doesn't see things like that. She likes things her way and she likes to be in control. She didn't understand my feelings. She was needy too, but on her terms. Her terms were right, my terms were wrong. She didn't understand why I needed her to move back to New York. She is too self-centered to understand anyone else's point of view. She is too self-centered to accept it. I thought we were fine but she kept her feelings bottled up. She didn't share. She made the rules. She called it quits. She felt backed into a corner and pushed me aside, expendible. And yet she pulls me closer...on the phone, through texts. And I fall for it. I know she won't change her mind. I can't control her. I need to let her go. She doesn't want me, not as a girlfriend. I don't know if I can be her friend. I don't want to lose her but I can't settle for that. I want to be with her. Every text gives me hope. Every call sends my mind racing. Our scheduled talks leave my stomach heavy from anticipation. What will she say? Is it good? Is it bad? Is she willing to really lose me? Will she finally say something I want to hear? And because of all this I cannot let her go. Working at Old Navy last night was filled with reminders of her. Memories of a happier time, when we wanted nothing more than to be together.