*Don't read*

King of fools

There are a lot of thoughts swirling in my head, but mostly it's her. She's the planet all these thoughts revolve around; she's the gravity in my head. And she doesn't even exist. She's out there somewhere, but she's not real anymore. 

What she accomplished in a short amount of time is astonishing. She got me to see things I'd tried to hide from. She blew open things I never thought existed. What she did in my life was nothing short of a miracle. I thank God for her every day. Now, she feels like a dream. What we had for a brief moment was an absolute dream, a fantasy, an unrealistic but beautiful thing.

I lost her. I'm grieving that loss. I thought having anger would be the end of this grieving process. Instead, it's just a strange, warm feeling that sits in my bones. I cannot be angry with her; it's just not in me. What she did to me I cannot blame her for. Whatever she did, she had to do. I just happened to be the blind and deaf man who walked into the wood chipper. It's nobody's fault. She did what she was going to do, and I did what I was going to do. What was alarming was when I looked back and saw all the warning signs, signs that even existed more than 20 years ago, and at no point did it add up. Until it was too late. How blind could one man be? Well, after trying and failing twice, what are the chances I'm going to give it a third try? 

She said things to me I wouldn't say to my worst enemy, things that entered me like a knife and twisted, things that went viral in my head, things that I think about now and laugh because they were so perfectly destructive, shredding me with ease. It was clear she didn't want me in her life, and it just took a long time to get that through my head. I stuck around way too long, and she had no choice but to chase me off with a colorful array of hurtful words. Then she ghosted me after telling me she couldn't be in a relationship (not even a friendship) with me. She must have seen me as the pest I truly was; while she was hurting and hurling toward an unknown universe, I was just nipping at her heels like, "Hey, wanna play?" When she told me talking to me made her want to kill herself, it started to sink in. I was a fool in love, and she just wanted to be left alone. How could I have been so selfish and so foolish? If I tallied up all the ways she told me to get lost, it would be shocking. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why didn't I see her needs? She's a unique woman with unique needs, and I completely missed that. Boy, did I fuck up. 

After more than a year of getting her hints (which increasingly became more than hints), and after watching myself thrash about wildly trying to understand what the point of all this was, I was determined to get closure. I remember that day in May. I got so close, and something big turned it around in me and made me see how absolutely awful I was treating her. My need was to either hear from her or lose her completely; I could not understand anything in between. I couldn't see she just needed me to go away for her sanity. It wasn't love I was showing her. It was desperation. My need was to see the thing end, but it was already over. I just hadn't figured that out. Why did I need closure for something that had obviously ended?

Every time I take a piss, my manhood in hand, I have to laugh because of what she told me. Is there a better way to skewer a man than to compare his manhood unfavorably so someone else's? My fault. I asked. Walked right into the chipper.

I've never been so confused, so humbled, so humiliated, or so hurt by a woman. That sentence should generate some sort of anger in me. It's just not there. I was hurt by the same measure of how much I loved her. I allowed it even though my heart fought me, even though it deceived me. She was worth it, of course. 

Adding to my confusion was the thought that she shouldn't be getting divorced, that there was too much for her to lose. She clearly chose the right man all those years ago. I was distraught when she did get divorced because it wasn't the outcome I foresaw. I should have exited her life before that point so she could more accurately weigh what was in her heart. I feel so much remorse over that. I hate that I had anything at all to do with her getting a divorce. I cannot feel an ounce more regret for my role in her divorce. Not a day goes by that I don't pray her heart returns to her ex-husband and his to her. My selfishness has cost her and her family so much pain. I'd bury myself alive if it would give them their family back. 

I have a lot of apologizing to do. That's what this is — just another apology. After all, let's face it, I ruined her life. She has every right to hate me, every right to tell me off, every right to wound me. I am to blame for her pain, and I don't know how I could ever look her in the eyes again. Luckily for me, I won't have to do that.

This failed attempt at a relationship makes me laugh now. I laugh because I don't know what else to do. It was perfect in its destruction. It was thorough. It was like it was planned. Whatever illusions I had about myself, those are gone. Whatever thoughts I had about starting over and loving someone are gone. Whatever pride I had is gone. Whatever was left of my heart is gone. I laugh, too, because I somehow made it to the other side. How the fuck did I survive that? It was perfect. If she had planned it, it could not have been more perfect. She was a precision machine, a SWAT team, a coordinated attack that dismantled all of my defenses, then swept in and shredded me from the inside. I've never been so demoralized or dehumanized by a woman. I should thank her for ending whatever it was we were trying to accomplish. That shit was brutal.

Still, I want to thank her. Not only did I get to love her, but what she forced me to see was what I needed to see. The pain worked something in me that could not have happened otherwise. I had to end up that broken. I had to flatline in despair. I had to leave my body and the pain behind in order to see the hand holding me, to hear the voice speaking peace into me. I had to know I would be okay no matter what.

She's smart. Smarter than me. She told me things that should have stopped me dead in my tracks, and, clearly stopped her in hers. She was very convincing. I'm now convinced we never would have worked anyway. We're too old to try to start over. There are too many challenges and not enough reasons to try. It's hard admitting you were wrong, but I admit I was wrong. It was too much of a gamble, and there was too much to lose. As it was, I took heavy losses. If I had lost all, I don't know what I would have done. She's brilliant, of course. I'm well aware of that. She's practical. Before it was too late, she stopped us from going over the edge. Now I can imagine a future — without an "us" — but a future, nonetheless. I'll be practical, too. I'll find someone, or someone will find me, most likely. It won't be perfect, but it will be something. The hard part is getting past the Great Perhaps that turned into my Great Disappointment. It will take the rest of my life, no doubt. I couldn't forget her the first time. There's no way I'll forget this time.

Why am I the king of fools? "When it comes around to love I always lose," says the song, and, "I've searched in vain for a love that would never be true. That's why I call myself the king of fools." There's something wrong with me. It's in my attachment mechanism or my ability to trust. I've begun to realize I've been blaming others for what's happened to me in my love life, when it could have been prevented if I'd had a clearer head. It's wrong of me to expect an unproven person to respect my heart. It's also wrong to expect someone who has been proven bad for my heart to suddenly be good. Either way, I was setting myself up for disaster. Live and learn.

Letting go of her has been one of the saddest things I've ever done. Still, there is a tenderness in me for her. I don't know what to call this thing, but it makes sense she wouldn't half-life away in me like any other woman. Maybe she won't always be here; I don't know. But, she sure is here now. When I sit still and alone and turn a page, she's there in the smell of the book. When I pick up my phone, I hope to feel that buzz that tells me she's been there. When I open up my bed at night. When I wake in the morning. When I sigh through another day. When I dress. When I stare blankly at my bathroom mirror. When I wear the shirt she gave me. When I walk and talk with God, she's always in our discussions. But, love is a two-way street. I can stay creepily obsessed with her the rest of my life, but that would be wrong. And disrespectful. I rudely insisted we continue what we started. She insisted I leave her alone. And now I will.

So begins the impossible task. The only way it seems possible is to ask God for my heart back. It hurts so much to even think of that. But, living like this is also an impossible task. I've only prayed a handful of times (if it was God's will and if it would be good for both of us) that we would be together someday. Conversely, I've prayed thousands of times that her ex-husband would repent and restore what he's stolen, killed, and destroyed and put his family back together. That, clearly, would be the best possible scenario. I will be the only one to miss out, which I can handle, and maybe God has something else for me to do. I hope that something keeps me incredibly busy. 

Time to finish this up. I love this woman more than any woman I've ever known, more than I will ever love another woman. She is everything I've said she is and more. But I can't keep tormenting her with how I feel. It's not healthy for either of us. It's not right in God's eyes. It's possibly even manipulative, although I've never intended it to be. It's just time to move on. Let her be. Stop writing about her. Stop thinking about her. At least TRY. Go on with your life. Pick up your sorry-ass heart-shards and make a happy face. Get your happy ass where you have to go and do what you have to do. That's life. Live it. Be the king of your dying little world. Be the best king of fools there's ever been.