He May Never Come Back to Me

I woke up at 5 this morning after getting to bed around 1:30.  I'm not sure what woke me, whether it was the dream I was having that I was going to miss my flight from Alberta to New York, or some shift by the dog.  Whatever did it, did it well, and I could not fall back asleep but only keep repeating my mantra for him.  Please come back to me.  It's all I want in the world.

I am still having a terribly hard time without being able to reach out to him.  It has been one week since I promised I would stop all contact.  That may not seem a long time to him, but it has been terrible for me.  Every day without him is sorrow and pain.  My sister asked how my health is doing when she was trying to change the subject from him, but the two are intrinsically linked.  There is no body without my soul and there is no soul without my heart.

I know I'm good for him.  I know there are not many men who would put up with all of his issues.  I did more than put up with him.  I supported him.  I forgave him.  I had my own issues too and I thought he would always support mine.  It never occurred to me that he could pull away for something like this.  This is when family bands together, not when it rips apart.  This is when a lover pulls you closer and says, "we will get through this, together."

I'm not perfect.  I know that.  I was jealous and insecure a lot of times.  I discussed those things with him.  I tried to be mature about it, but he would just get angry and stubborn.  I had to share him with the world, but I got to have those precious moments alone at night.  I miss those.  I need those.  Being touched by him brought such peace and joy.  I need peace and joy.  I understood.  I understand.

I love him, which is why I'm not contacting him.  I want him to be happy, in the end.  I wish it could be with me.  I wish he could see more than HIV when he looks at me or thinks of me.  I wish he could see the man who broke his back on more than one occasion, figuratively speaking.  I wish he could see the man who broke his toe and would gladly have sacrificed any other body part in the service of his worthy cause, literally speaking.  I wish he could see the man whose heart is broken, completely and utterly.

I don't know how he can make this seem so easy.  He's telling all his friends he's fine and happy.  He's going about his business.  He's being really cute and sexy in photo shoots.  He's so sexy.  He's being so unkind to me, with a complete lack of compassion, but he's still so sexy.  I don't think he may ever come back to me.  That is the saddest thought I've ever had.