In writing, I forget. [part 1]

This is for the one who got away... for the one who could've been the one, but never was.

He went by a lot of names on my phonebook. It used to be his first name + last name and then we started going out. He became "...", "zzz" and for the longest time, "j."

Yes, just j. In small letters.

I met him in April of 2006. He was my trainer and I was his trainee.

We didn't have any close personal encounter during training... He went to some of our wave's countless inuman sessions after work. But that was all.

He listened to some of my calls during A-Bay, but we never had any written coachings - he always told me to take it as a "coaching opportunity."
That was all. I went AWOL after a few months and then he sent me a message asking if I was okay and wondering why I went missing.

I went back to school and my TM couldn't give me a nice schedule as he promised.

We went out a few days after that first non-work related text.

I didn't know that was the first of many which spanned 6 years.

Wow, more than half a decade. And we weren't even together.

We were never together... although we could've been, I always rejected him.

When we started out, I told him I didn't want commitment, no attachments, no complications.

Of course, that never came to be, because I fell for him. I guess he did for me, too.

Why am I suddenly writing about him?

Because I have to. Everytime I got so frustrated about our situation, I write about it - on my planner, in paper, even on the web. My Livejournal and Multiply posts circa 2006-2008 were mostly about him. They were mostly angst-ridden and unfair to him.

This time, for the last time, will be about the good stuff. I am no longer the angsty 20-something years ago. But even so, I have to write about him.

I am writing to finally let go.

By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

[Image from Google]

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