To the core

Right about now, five years ago after a night of heavy drinking, I was on Density's couch texting back the man who had told me earlier that night he needed to speak to me. I had no idea I was opening the door to three years of mostly heart ache. At the time it just felt surreal that I was talking to him after nearly 2.5 years of pretending not to love him and nearly six months of zero contact. This past day also happened to mark 1,121 days since he last kissed me. Was looking through my apps this week completely forgetting about my counters. Couldn't believe that number coincided with this date. 

I really don't understand why it feels like the #21 haunts me, but it does. Last week I found out two of my friends and former coworkers have been having an affair and are leaving their spouses for each other. Aside from being sincerely shocked and very sad for their spouses and kids whom I've come to love, there's honestly a piece of me that is jealous. Jealous that both of them were so sure about their feelings for each other they both have blown up their lives. It makes the part of me that still loves that man wish he'd have loved me enough to do the same. 

I was so sure about him that I let myself stay entangled in his drama for years of my life. I was still so heart broken and struggling to give up and believe he was never coming back that I had to move to another state.

I'm now coming to terms with the very real likelihood that because of that mess and my attachment to the future I so badly wanted with him and no one else, I may have missed out on having biological children. 

I thought by now I wouldn't still care so much or still be so disappointed at how it all turned out, but I think every time I'm reminded just how wrong I was to believe it was mutual it's gonna fucking hurt to my core.