I have written more, lots, reams, but I just don’t feel like posting it because REASONS.
Thank you so much for all the travel you did to come and spend time with me, I really appreciate it.
I enjoyed so much about our time together: you’re lovely, and you’re so beautiful, and I feel like there is more to explore. I’d be delighted to see you again to kiss and pet and play some more if you would enjoy that also.
But given how we communicate, trying to build a long term relationship over this distance isn’t going to work for me.
I can’t imagine you’re surprised, and I hope you aren’t too disappointed. I’m happy to talk about it if you want to.
I know, I know: by email, what an arsehole! But we’ve only had one phone call EVER: our communication was either in-person or by text. So, yeah.
He said he would send a reply to it: he didn’t. But we’ve exchanged some friendly texts since I sent it, so it’s all amicable. There is no grand heartbreak here: I have no idea if he will be interested in getting together again. If he lived close by, I’d be happy to date and see if anything developed, or just to enjoy him for all the beautiful things he brings to the table, but the distance makes any get-together into a huge project, so it seems doubtful.
I’m fine, but underneath the ‘fine’-ness, I feel tired, disappointed, sad.
I will probably write more about this, but the truth is that I struggled to get below the surface with him in person: the distance just exacerbated that and made it untenable.
I keep thinking that if I can’t make connections with men who are clearly awesome, then it must be me. I’m pretty introspective and, I think, honest with myself, and I genuinely can’t see what it is about me that makes me continually fail to make the kind of connection I want.
This time it hits especially hard because I really like him and I really fucking tried. I tried even though in the back of my mind, I know I’ve never really HAD to try when there was something firing between us. It just… worked. So even in the trying, I was already aware that I was reaching for something that wasn’t going to develop naturally.
It almost feels like there’s some subconscious thing going on with me where I don’t WANT it to work, and I’m somehow scuppering myself in some way that I don’t understand. That’s not how it feels when I’m in the face of these men who I like: I WANT everything to fire up, for both of us. I really really do. So when it doesn’t I just feel… tired, disappointed, sad.
It will pass, of course.
But for now, I’m just doing a lot of heavy sighing and feeling sorry for myself.