The resolution of a relationship should not be clinging to said relationship and accepting whatever piece of the person you’re now able to get. But that seems to be exactly what I need to do in order to make sure I’m not going to lose my mind.

Throughout the past few weeks I have kept coming back to the whole idea of ‘there has to be a middle ground’. It’s something that I’m sure my friends are sick of hashing out with me, but something that is generally accepted. When my best friend, who is not exactly the most pro-relationship girl you’ll ever meet, told me I shouldn’t let it go, I thought that maybe, just maybe there was a possibility that if I remained calm and rational, the little friendly things O and I have been saying to one another could work themselves into a sort-of anti-relationship relationship.

This became my goal for the evening. And it wasn’t all that hard to achieve.

O and I pretty much kept in contact all day yesterday. And not all dirty texts and not all hashing out the details texts, but just friendly ha ha, how was dinner?, blah blah kind of things. The past two nights when I went out, he’s told me he’s worried about me, that he didn’t want me to go home with the Magician. That he’s tired and he needs to stop traveling.

When it hit midnight, and he told me how much he wished I was in bed with him, how he sleeps so much better when he can feel me near him, blah blah blah. I used this as my way in, and told him that I wished we had talked about this whole thing before he just up and peaced out.

All I need to know is he cares about me. I don’t need promises because I know I’m not going to get them, and I am not going to put my life on hold for him. But I need to know he cares, I still mean something from him, and that he’ll see me when he can. That what we have did and does mean something, and that just knowing him is enough for me. That we don’t have to be together, but that we both know we’re not totally apart.

His response was classicly O: You silly woman. That’s exactly what I’ve been telling you for the past 24 hours.

Which is true. It just wasn’t spelled out in a neat little definitive statement. Which I needed.

When we were in Newport, I bought myself a few little things. Two glass jars. A little tin box. And I handcarved wooden jewelry box that was imported from India. O pointed out that everything I bought was something to put stuff in. Then he asked me what would Freud say?

I need things to be defined. And, while we’re defining it by not defining it, I know that man still cares. But I can’t count on that to be my happiness because he can’t give it to me forever. So, he’s not my boyfriend. But he is important to me. And I can’t let it go.

I know it’s unhealthy, and perhaps I’ll regret it. But I can’t shake it.

There’s a Sex and the City when Carrie starts being friends with Big. I don’t remember what season it was, I think it was when she was with Aidan the second time around and they were at the cabin and Carrie left to go have dinner in the city with Big. I remember Miranda giving Carrie a hard time about it, and I remember Carrie saying something about how she and Big have a connection, that it’s enough for her to know there’s a man out in the world somewhere who she’s connected to.

I guess that’s how it has to be for me for now. Until I meet someone else. Which is probably right when he’ll decide he wants it to be different.

Love does not, as promised, conquer all. But it ebbs and flows. And it’s never what you think it will be. And I’m not going to say that I’ve given up on him loving me one day, because of course I haven’t. But I know I’ll be ok if he never does.

In every break up, there’s the one who saw it coming (and typically did the deed), and the one left in the fog.

I am the one in the fog.

When the Corporal and I broke up, I was not in the fog. I remember him calling and crying and I remember telling him that I couldn’t be the one to help him through it.

Now, I’m the one who’s struggling to deal with all that has happened in the past 5 months by trying not to lean too much on O.

He’s back, in a way. I mean, we’re in contact on a regular basis again. Texting and emails every other day or so. Which admittedly is dangerous territory, but it seems to be working all right thus far. After an evening of deciding if it would be a smart idea for me to drive back out to Cincinnati tonight or for him to drive here tomorrow to spend the day together, it was decided that seeing each other right now would probably be a bad idea, considering, well, the dirty nature of the late night texts and, really, how good would sex be for my mental health? Answer: Not good at all.

He is going to be in town within the next two weeks and we’re planning to have dinner and coffee. Which may not be a good idea either, but I don’t care.

I finally accepted it. I stopped trying to convince myself it was a phase, that he’ll miss me too much and come back, that he’s my Mr. Big (ok… I haven’t really stopped thinking he’s my Big). And I finally let myself open to the fact that the feelings he had were real.

We just chatted for an hour, and he told me this: I know one day, I’m going to look back at this and think “O - you dick”.

To which I responded: Yes, you will. And please let me know when that happens so I can say “I told you so”.

I don’t know if it’s healthy to want someone to stay in my life once he’s ended what was the best relationship I’ve had in years. But I don’t care. I wish I could sit here and tell you all that he’s an asshole and an awful human being.

But he’s not.

He’s my friend. And I can’t let him go completely.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever blogged about the guy I was seeing before I met O, I seem to recall possibly referring to him as The Magician, but I may be making that up. I actually sort of cheated on O with him since in March O told me that he knew he wanted to be with me the day he met me, but I made out with the Magician a month after meeting O. Details, details.

Anyway, yesterday I was bored and needed to be around people, so I went to Jack’s where I was supposed to meet Lib. I ended up having several Sam Adam’s Cherry Wheats, which hit me pretty hard since I hadn’t really eaten much all day. I was nice and tipsy when Lib got there, and about ten minutes later, the Magician walked in the door. I haven’t seen him in five months, and I just had this feeling that he’d show up last night. I really did.

We caught up on everything that’s been happening with both of us, though I didn’t get into detail about O, I told him that I had been dating someone but that it didn’t work out. Lib made us all move to the other end of the bar where some other friends were because, well, the Magician and I pretty much ignored everyone else and she was bored.

Eventually, he kissed me. And it was weird. Very weird. Because it was familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time. If that makes any sense at all. I initially felt terrible, like I had done something wrong, and it took a lot for me to focus on what was happening instead of what used to be happening.

He walked me to my car and we had a talk about things that had happened, he said that he wasn’t prepared to see me last night. Seriously? You have to prepare to see me? I didn’t want to drive home, I wanted to stay at his place since it was very close by and it would have been nice not to sleep alone, but he kept telling me he wasn’t prepared and that he’s having trouble letting his guard down. So I jumped in the car and left.

I texted him as I watched him walk away and told him I was sorry if he felt I was being pushy, that I enjoyed my evening with him.

The text he sent me back is saved on my phone because it basically sums up everything I wanted him to say to me six months ago. No worries. It’s my fault. I like being with you. I’m just an ass sometimes. You have nothing to be sorry for.

A few more texts were exchanged, basically saying that we shouldn’t wait months to see one another. But time will tell I guess.

When I went to sleep last night, I thought how funny it was that all these months later, he’s finally able to tell me what I needed to hear then.

So, as my life just gets more and more like the plot of some cheesy romantic comedy, I woke up this morning and had an email from O. It said something along the lines of I’m sorry this happened but we have to part ways, you’re a wonderful person and you deserve someone who can give you the things I can’t, you’ll always be very special to me and I will miss you.

Not exactly all the closure I wanted, but it helped. Made me feel a little better because I know that he did and does care, that he will miss me, and this was just what he had to do.

Of course, I emailed him back and it was about twenty times longer than the one he sent me. I basically said everything I’ve been asking in these posts. There was a bit of “Here’s why you’re a tit” and one “I would have kept trying to make this work”. But then there was the real part, the meat of the problem, the very simple fact that I miss my friend that I talked to every day for the past few months. That I’d like to see him again if we’re ever in the same place at the same time.

I’m still waiting on a response. I have a feeling that he’ll be ok with keeping in touch and being friends. Of course I have the fantasy in my head that I’ll lose all the weight and he’ll call me in a few months and ask me to go to dinner, look at me over the table, and know that he does love me. But by then, I’ll probably be talking myself into believing that some other man has real feelings for me.

Everything is cyclical. I’m spinning around and around.

… is because, even though it’s only been five days since I’ve seen him, he misses me so he’s going to drive out here from Cincinnati on Saturday night so we can go get coffee when I get off of work and he can spend my Sunday off with me.

I’m falling. Hard.

I went to visit O in Cincinnati this weekend. Well, not Cincinnati proper, a little town north of it. A little town in Ohio that should have been a little farther south as they had a giant rock Jesus drowning in (or rising from) a large pond with fountains in it, a sight which shocked me as I drove up 75 toward Dayton.

Next to the huge Rock Jesus is a giant flea market (only open on Saturdays and Sundays from 9 - 5) with giant fake giraffes above each giant red garage door. It strikes me as humorous that the two establishments share a parking lot and that most of the Rock Jesus lovers probably go by shit at the flea market right after the Sunday service. I’m not saying I’m not down with Jesus, but I don’t think that a 700 ft stone statue is very Christian. Or maybe that’s just me.

I passed the time by singing like an asshole at the top of my lungs in the car for most of the 5 hour drive. I made myself two CDs - appropriately titled ‘Jams’ and ‘Sap’, with ‘Cincy ‘08′ bravely emboldened across them in big black Sharpie. ‘Jams’ had some of my old favorites - SR-71, American Hi-Fi - along with some newer songs I love and wanted to learn the words to. ‘Sap’ had a bunch of mushy shit - pretty much every Faith Hill and Tim McGraw duet ever made - and the crown jewel of sap, the one that made me cry my eyes out on the way home, ‘Good-bye Girl’ but Hootie and the Blowfish. Yes, that’s right. I said Hootie and the Blowfish. And I know Joann is probably the only person not laughing at me right now.

The rest of the time I spent listening to a CD I made that contained at least 40 of the Budlight Real Men of Genius commercials. Mr. Homemade Pontoon Boat maker made me laugh so hard that I spit my Diet Pepsi all over my steering wheel and almost had to pull off to the side of the road. We’re boating and dancing… we’re boating and grilling… we’re boating and getting electrocuted.

The weekend pretty much consisted of Starbucks, crosswords, bed, and random nature shows on the National Geographic channel. At one point, I asked O if it was a bad thing that we were already acting like a couple that had been married for 40 years, and he responded, “What are we meant to be doing?” And, yes, there are things that a new couple are meant to be doing. It’s covered.

I learned a few more uses for words this weekend. Tit = wanker = asshole. Cow = bitch. Eating light = Big Mac.

Me = disgustingly smitten.

We now have a plan.

My plan, for now, is to try to work as much as I can and pay down my debt as much as I can in the next year because, roughly and if things continue in the way they have been going for the past four months, that is the point that I need to have my shit together for myself in order to make a real step toward the next part of my life. And if things with O don’t work out, well, that’s still a good goal to have.

But the fact that a man can have a conversation like we had this weekend, well… he’s a good guy. And he knows exactly how to deal with me when I’m getting scared. I always thought that people who said I would just know when I met someone special were crazy, but now I can only say that you can never feel it until it happens to you. And, yes, I may end up eating my words in a few months, I’m aware of that.

But, for now, I have to say that it just feels good. And I’m happy. So, that’s enough for me for now.