I really meant to send K a goodbye letter before I left Portland.  Ideally we would have met for a drink or something, but I didn’t even expect a reply.  I just wanted to say farewell.

I forgot to write the letter.  I left Portland and I didn’t say goodbye because I forgot to.

I’m both sad and happy about that.  Ten weeks ago, and for a whole two years, I couldn’t stop thinking about this person, and now he’s an afterthought.  It’s better.  But it’s sad.

I met someone.  That phrase should induce dread in all who read it, but it’s ok!  No, it really is.  Because it’s got me thinking.  I’m realizing all the things I’ve done wrong in the past, and I’m trying to do better.    Sure, I’m still throwing myself at the emotionally unavailable, but I’m doing it with eyes wide open.  Isn’t that good?

Oh, hell.

Because no one wants my 3am rants about my feelings, even if he’s charmed (now) by my writing.  No one wants everything that comes along with that.  And as much as people appreciate the attention (at first, maybe) they don’t want to deal with the force of a fully infatuated Kate.  I’m allowed to have these feelings, but I need to rein them in a bit.  Otherwise I’ll go crazy.  I don’t want to tear myself to pieces again.  I don’t want another situation like the one I had with K.

Fortunately, this doesn’t seem to be going in that direction.  Both on my end and on his, this is not the same situation.  I still have my wits about me.  I don’t have that feeling that I’m being swept up in a current and helpless to fight it.  I am not in love.  I am not in love yet?  Who knows?  But right now it’s cool.  It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s a nice distraction.

I wonder what the world might be trying to teach me.  I wonder how much I’m learning.

What would I change about my history with K?  I can’t think of a single thing, because I learned so much from all of it.  And I like knowing what I know, even if sometimes it wasn’t fun.  Sometimes it was absolutely wonderful.  And I have never loved anyone like that, and for the last year I’ve been wondering if that was my one shot at it–the one time I’d get to love so fully, intensely, recklessly, sincerely.  I’ve been sad to think I might never love anyone like that again.  But I’m starting to think it might be ok.  I don’t want to get swept up.  I don’t want to get lost, not like that, not ever again.

I’m worth more than that.  I’m better than that.  I don’t want to throw myself at the indifferent/ambivalent/apathetic anymore.  I need a more measured approach, and I’m working on that.  Maybe I’ll eventually even fall for someone who has the ability to love me back.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.