I like to read Craigslist and see if I know anyone in the Missed Connections sections. Or if someone is looking for me, which never happens. I also like Postsecret, with the mailed in deep secrets anonymously out there for all in to read. I think they are brave, even with their identities safe. Today I came across a combo of CL & Postsecret in this Missed Connections confessional of a posting and the emotion of it made me pause and think about how love can go awry. Here it is:
In my life story, this is your chapter. - w4m
Reply to: email@example.com
Date: 2006-09-01, 11:09PM CDT
Now its been three years. Four in May. And I was talking last night with her about the first night I met you– how I was bored, how I wandered back into that party on a fluke, how everything has changed since I made a decision to put my high heels back on and come back to you. You were short, and you had on a gold chain– none of this Polo shirts and madras golfing frat-boy gear that came later. I was not impressed, but luckily for you– I was drunk. So I kissed you. I. Kissed. You. Just like that. You drove me home that night, and after what happened between them in the backseat, I never expected to see you again. But we weren’t them....we were us, and you kept calling. You called until last March, when you just stopped. Because I was in love with you. Because you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me. Because you could see that it could never be less than the dizzy, lusting, drive 200 miles in the middle of the night, stutter over words because you think you might pass out kind of affair that it was. Not for me. Because when you surprised me at my door after 2 years overseas with an early flight home, I dropped 3 glass platters on the concrete threshold to my apartment. Then I sat down on the pavement, because I was not sure I could stand up. Because 3 months after we stopped speaking, in Europe, a stranger at a dinner table mentioned your highschool, and then mentioned your name, and I couldn’t explain to anyone why I was crying. Because it didn’t make sense, that someone who was my everything was really nothing at all. Not on facebook– Status: Single. Not to friends. But every night, every night, every night– we were. Because when we watched a movie together we never got past the opening credits. Because when I wore another man’s engagement ring, I let you twist it around, and hold my face and kiss me and remind me that WE had existed. Because for two years you called. Every night. Goodnight babe, I love you. Because we said I love you, and we meant it. Because you were always The One, and you always will be, and I never really had you at all.
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