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reluctant gift

first loves are powerful things. first true friendships are too. the difficulty is when they are one and the same. my first was a long time relationship that ended badly, and dishonestly on my part. he was a married man. i was in love. after years, i began to break down. i needed more. i knew i could never have it with him, nor did i want to be the cause that resulted in the break up of his family. we would meet every few months, share glorious days and nights together and then go back to our lives. the last couple of days of our togetherness was always very difficult for me....the time that drew near to the airport departures i so hated. during the last trip, i snapped. i purposely picked a trivial fight that resulted in a fatal breakup. i thought it would be easier for us both if the end were my fault. i did regret it (still do) and wanted us back a few months later, but it was too late. he has hardly been able to talk to me since. no more than a reply to one of my emails once a year....and his condolences when Chris died. it hurt him too much to do so, he told me.
i emailed him last week. told him i needed to talk. i did need to talk. talking to him when things are rough in my life always made things better. he has a way with putting things in perspective and shining light in the dark. he has a way with taking burdens from my shoulder and making my load lighter.
he agreed to talk.
what did i think? what was i thinking? that we would regain that sweet friendship? that enough time had passed that being around me would no longer pain him?
i must have been out of mind. we talked for a bit. he was cold and distant, almost calculated in his reponses. and, finally, i asked him if we could be friends again....or if ever we could. he said sometimes the most generous gift people can give each other is this complete finality. my gift to him is to stay out of his life. that hurt. i cried. i cried hard. i cried for all i have ever lost and all the things that can never be...for the things i have destroyed and can never mend. i cried myself to sleep.
i sure have an impact of finality on the men in my life.



( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Jul. 28th, 2003 09:45 am (UTC)
~holds you close and tight ~
I love you very, very much.

This man you will never lose.

Jul. 28th, 2003 08:04 pm (UTC)
Re: ~holds you close and tight ~
you are a dear friend. i think sometimes we get so hung up in the past that we are unable to see what is right in front of us.
i love you too.
Jul. 29th, 2003 05:25 am (UTC)
And much as i hate getting to that point a good cry is cleansing...I hope that yours was cleansing and healing...HUGGGGS...
Jul. 29th, 2003 09:21 am (UTC)
but a good cry too many times is just plain ol exhausting!
i'm done!
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )


don't fear death
melissa muses (or maia, you choose)


wandering does not make you a "gypsy."
why would you call yourself
after those who have no home?
long skirts and hoop earrings
do not make you a "gypsy."
why do you call yourself after
those who have no clothes?

"gypsy" is pejorative. please don't perpetuate the stereotype. educate yourself on what it really means to be a "gypsy" in this world.

Who are the Roma?

Decade of Roma Inclusion

Dženo Association

European Roma Rights Centre

Roma Balkans

Roma National Congress

Romani World



Rroma Media Network

Soros Roma Initiatives

Studii Romani

The European Union and Roma

The Patrin Webjournal: Romani Culture and History

Voice of Roma
World Bank Roma Initiatives

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