the end of earl grey

found out from facebook today that earl grey got married this weekend

to his "best friend" who we would talk about occasionally when we were dating 5 years ago

his engagement was 3 days after I wrote this post and this post... how foolish of me!

funny how life works out - guess she was carrie and not I.

at least it's closure to a fantasy I never truly wanted. 

earl grey in the morning

10 hours after my last post. 

in my compartmentalized mind, the door to earl grey's sphere cracks open every once in a while. through it I see the beautiful memories I remembered last night, neat and glittering. open the door wider and I start seeing the dust, the darkness, and the furniture falling apart. it's always when I wake that I know we are where we are for the right reasons, that we aren't carrie and big, and that I'll never be brave enough or irresponsible enough to tell him what I think of us when I'm the most vulnerable. 

earl grey

I've become a master at compartmentalizing. I got over the most recent guy I dated in two days and a bottle of wine. I got over my last boyfriend of six months in a week. I got over earl grey in...4 years and counting. 

It's not the first night I've lied awake thinking about him. Don't get me wrong, I don't think about him on a daily basis and I certainly don't let him hinder my dating life, but I've also more or less accepted that I'll always love him. There are sides of me I haven't experienced since I was with him, and I legitimately think I knew myself better when we were together. He's the only one in my adult life who's seen my inner child, and he's the person who has made me the happiest, saddest, and the most livid I have ever been. I've never lived life or loved anyone with such intensity. 

We are magnets held apart only by the hundreds of miles between SF and LA, and our worthless rational logic that tells us we'd never make it in the long run. 

Whenever I turn into this nostalgic mess I know it's just because the nights (and wine) make me more vulnerable. But if I wake up feeling the same way I do now, I think I need to tell him. I know admitting it to ourselves will be opening a Pandora's box we tried to close years ago - but what if it was never meant to be closed?