Hope is a cruel mistress

Last night I was, without a doubt, the happiest I've been in quite a few months.

In the light of day, I'm forced, with sobering reality, to review what happened after I logged off the computer and climbed into bed and found the man I'd fallen in love with nearly a year ago.

See, for months I've been walking around in a daze wondering where he went, how he disappeared and was replaced with a miserable prick that made me feel eternally awkward. I found myself often speechless. Unable to find any words to bridge the silent divide that had formed. And then, I stopped wanting to. I found myself unable to find a single redeeming quality in this new man. Alas, I came to hate him, then fell into indifference.

As we lay in bed watching the end of the Phillie game, Riley climbed up between us for the first time in ages. We played with the dog and joked around and it felt natural, for the first time I can remember. So natural, I couldn't help but make a note of it. I didn't pause because he spoke to me with obvious detest. In fact, he was devoid of his usual impatience. He engaged me in conversation. It wasn't like talking to a disapproving parent.

Then we had what can only be described as the best sex we've ever had together.

And we continued with our cutsey little inside jokes that I'd almost forgotten.

Almost.

I'm left this morning wondering how he hid that part of himself for so long. And now I actually want to know why. Why he can turn on his old self so easily, now that we've made plans to go our separate ways. And is that it? Is he that relieved that he's out of this relationship that he can finally be himself again? The self that I loved?

Part of me wants to grab him and shake him and scream and demand an answer.

Part of me wants to slap him and walk away.

Part of me wants to pull him close and beg him to be that man for me.

But this time, I will walk away. I will hold my head high. I will be silent. I will be somber and empart some niceties on the way out the door. I will get in the car and I will cry.

I will cry for the girl in Florida that fell in love with a boy and found a man she couldn't understand. I will cry for all the days I waited for him to come back. I will cry for all the hurts, big and small and in between as I waited. And at some point as I swerve down the highway, I'll laugh. I'll tell Riley we are starting a new life and we will. And there will be new inside jokes. New moments. Another body to snuggle against. A new back to rub.

And it will be alright.