I can’t seem to get over my Frenchman. Ridiculous, I know. But he was the best guy I’d met in ages. With my overactive imagination, I could see a future, see us going places. I don’t know, we just fit. And my crazy side didn’t seem to destabilize him either. It’s the what if. What if the timing had been different. What if I’d been more supportive. What if I hadn’t been freaking out at work myself. What if.
Being cut off is really hard. There’s no closure in “I just can’t”. It stinks.
I wrote to my Frenchman a heartfelt email on Jan 1 saying a few things along the lines of I should have been more supportive, hoped things were better for him and wished him a happy new year. He wrote back with a line: Happy new year to you too.