My Great Love
5:39 p.m. | Sept. 24, 2007

Do you know that I think about writing in here all the time? I've managed to compartmentalize a lot of anything that has to do with you. There is this constant running commentary in my brain that has solely to do with you. Though I'm "supposed" to "move on" and "be over it", I'm really not, and I'm not sure why. There are constantly things that I think I'm never going to be able to share with you. Most of me has gotten used to it, but if it were true, if I were really over you, why do I write here?

There are certain songs that have always, and will always continue to, be linked to you. Without reason, it seems. One of them is "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service.

When you returned a few months ago (before you had to leave again), I took the only moment I thought I might have and played for you all the songs that had reminded me of you or us over the months and years. Something about the way we loved each other (both in our stunted ways, at the time) was so pure. It was like finding love for the first time. God, I sound like a pop song. But that's what it was like. Pure. First. Innocently passionate. At least that's how it was for me.

I'm completely aware that this is a losing battle. The thing is, I don't think either one of us is really fighting that hard, so it's not really a battle. I know there are so many things that are in the way of what I thought was "our happy ending". My rational, logical mind (yes, I do have one... sometimes) tells me that we would probably never work out even if we could somehow be in a relationship.

I do know this. I waited for you for over a year. I dated, because you wanted me to, but each of those relationships was prefaced with, "I am not interested in anything serious, I am waiting for someone to return to me from Iraq." And they would quietly agree and know that their time with me had an expiry date. It wasn't malicious. It just was.

I would have waited longer if you had asked. After a while I figured you hadn't asked because you hadn't wanted me to. And gradually, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed you but could never make you tie yourself to me. I was scared and I felt lost, but I had to strike out on my own. Besides, I didn't want to ask you, I wanted you to just want it enough to do it on your own. But that never happened.

I thought for sure I'd never love again. I was wrong. I did love again. But I was right because I still don't think I'll ever love that way again. I doubt my love will ever be that pure, or passionate, again. For anyone.

You were my Great Love.

I suppose that's why I have such a hard time letting go of it. That, and because, for a while, it seemed like I was yours. I'm never someone else's Great Love at the same time as their being mine. It's like a miracle that I can't let go of. It is/was a miracle. And who in their right mind would ever let go of that?

There, I talked myself sane. Woot.

Until my next inspiration (or bored moment)...