Desire

In an emotional telephone conversation this morning, I asked Mary whether there was honestly any chance of us getting together again.

She replied in all honesty that, at this moment, no there was no chance; that her heart belonged to someone else: N. I felt a lump in my throat, my temple throbbed and I had to wipe away a tear.

Why am I still clinging to some faint hope that she will still, some day, come back to me? N is obviously being everything to her that I couldn't but I still care for her very deeply. The more I speak to her, the more I get to know the new Mary, the more I like her, the more I want to be with her, the more I desire her. For it is desire, you see, that is lacking from my other relationships at the moment. I like both Mel and Becky, but if either was to end it, I would not be hurt. I simply don't care enough.

Now Mary is breaking my heart all over again.

At lunch I sent her a text: "I'm sorry but MY heart belongs to you. I love you."

I felt slightly foolish for sending it, but it's true. She is the only woman I want right now. I feel sad.