Cafe Hitch-hike

2022-07-01

Like fishing line

Mmm, I love this guy...

I don't know what the hell was in the air today. Maybe it was because my consummate stalker/ former beau Felipe gave another one of his pingbacks. I really can't do much else but ignore since he presents no apparent danger, but this is bordering on -- I don't know what the hell to call this. I don't text, follow on any social media, or do other forms of cyberstalking. I don't even like saying his name.

My colleagues are familiar with Felipe since he was a former co-worker. He made it no secret when he worked here that his eye (of his pecker) was on me. When I mentioned my annoyance to one, at least we put in perspective.

"At least you're not dating him."
"True, and he doesn't live here."
"You didn't marry him."
"Oh, no I didn't," I said almost deadpan. He offered me a political marriage and I said, 'hell no.'
"He also doesn't work here, and you don't live with him."

Count my blessings and just chalk Felipe up as the dating equivalent of a nasty cold sore on the lip. I've heard others (men and women alike) tell me about the ex- that never fully went away. My mother quietly told me she was harassed by my step-father after their divorce and even when she was in a relationship. She said it stopped once she moved 1,300 miles from him.

I do miss someone else, longing for him, and I have to accept that certain things are over. Sure, it can start again but I already know the snarl of complications. Someone left a wad of fishing line near our neighborhood canal while I walked my dog, and I picked it up so birds or animals wouldn't get tangled in it. As it turned out, I got tangled and had to use my lighter burn the line more than once. I mention the fishing line because that's exactly what I'll get if I reach back to this person.

At least I know it's possible for all of that to happen again elsewhere and with someone else. I know all of that is still in me. I know it's natural to miss that person and what we had, but also that it's my deal to move on the best I can. I keep asking for the university to help me learn, process, answer or whatever lingers unanswered, but I guess the heart works on its own timetable.

If I get the money my friend Carlo wanted to leave me, I'd be very, very surprised. He wanted to leave me and his friend with his savings. He thought it would happen if he just told his hospice worker. After having a conversation with his friend Giancarlo where I was visibly frustrated with the whole thing, I decided I really had to let it go. It is out of my hands.

downwind | upstream