Extinguish it

I have given up on her. I might hear from her from time to time but I'm no longer excited about the prospect.

We were a means for each to expand a small world, a world in which it seems the walls are closing in and we are crushed. But she has made her world smaller. Or so it seems. (Because I have to make an effort to trust her, rather than be able to do it on the merit of her having been honest to me, I cannot be certain that she is anything close to the person she portrays. Mostly certain. But there is doubt with anyone, particularly with those you know can lie.)

She never says what it is, and I don't want to know, but something changed. I tried to rationalise it: found another lover, grew tired of me, whatever. But what does it matter? It changed; that's all.

And I know it did because the spark in her died away. The tendency towards humourlessness and the sheer bloodyminded need to be right grew in her, making her sometimes a trial to talk to. This is not fun, I wanted to say, and I realise that I am not being any fun in return. But that's how I am: reactive, a mirror.

Weirdly, she blazed again, just briefly, but hotly enough that I was reminded why I loved her. And that hurt, because she backed away (and lied about it), becoming icy and unapproachable.

I am no longer disappointed. I know it was a mirage, hope but not substance. Losing it is not so bad as I might once have thought. Her outrageous behaviour when Mrs Zen found out illuminated for me that the substance would not match the hope in any case. I realised that "love", for her, did not include concern for others. Perhaps I realised then, or have since, that I need empathy, and the prospect of spending time with someone who so lacks it is not entirely appealing.

I am trying not to be unhappy about it. I am capable of chilling myself down, but when you have burned for someone, it is hard to put the fire out altogether. But sometimes you have to.

posted by Dr Zen @ 2:36 pm