Letting go

• "Letting Go" from the excellent XKCD webcomic - The alt text reads "At least I never gave her the root password."

I've been thinking a lot about the past recently (I blame the combination of coming up to the end of a year and not having a huge amount of work that needs doing now). I arranged to meet up with two of my friends from the days of my first undergraduate degree (who are living together and happily domesticated). They were my closest friends in my first degree, are almost the only people I haven't managed to alienate from those days, and they got together around the same time that I started seeing the One who got away.

It was lovely to see them. I don't know if we'll stay in touch as it did feel a bit awkward (they were also good friends with the One who got away), and everyone is busy. But it was nice, and they're both wonderful, kind, lovely, fun people.

This got me thinking about the one who got away. The XKCD comic strip above reminded me of the day I deleted the emails and text messages that I'd sent her and received from her. It was painful, but I'd hoped it would make me heal faster. Also just having them available was torture, even though I couldn't bring myself to read any of them. I still remember one text message so clearly though. It read "I love my job, but I love you more.". It still makes me sad to think about how good it all was. I'm really disorganised and am continuously losing and misplacing things. This holiday I keep finding little bits and pieces from her that I couldn't face with clearing away: A photo, a little note, a card. It's like poking at a wound that has scarred over and should have healed, but it's still so painful.

On my way back from the uni friends, I decided to swing back via my current university halls of residence. This implies that it was vaguely en route... it wasn't. It was a detour in completely the wrong direction which added over an hour in each direction of my journey.

This detour was a little bit due to the fact that there were a few bits and pieces at university that would be convenient to have: a sheet of my notes, the wifi card for the laptop that lets me type this in bed right now. If I was completely honest with myself though, it was mainly on the outside chance that the amazing one was there and I could drop in and say hi... Happily, mission accomplished.

I saw the light in her room was on, and the light in the kitchen. So I went to my room to grab the bits I came to pick up, so I could at least pretend to myself that my reason for coming back was practical. I then wandered down to her flat and rang the bell. Luckily, one of her flatmates who I was in a group with and am good friends with answered, and she invited me in, so it didn't look like I was just there to stalk the one I'm crushing on.

I had a lovely evening chatting to her and her two flatmates who I'm also friends with, but I'm so awkward around her as I just don't know what to say, or how to act. My brain conspires against me, so any eloquence I might have just vanishes. She's wonderful, and I do love her. It's just sad that it's unrequited. I don't think I ever had a chance though, just in terms of wrong place, wrong time. It's a complete bitch for me though: she arrives when I'm feeling like I'm getting over my ex (about bloody time), and I fall in love, but...

Bugger.

Love's a bitch.

AcidCat