Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Goodbye?

It hurts. She told me today she doesn't love me anymore. She said: "you are my soulmate, you are like family, I care for you". But she doesn't love me anymore, not the way it should normally be between a couple. We cried, we talked, we tried to grasp the feeling. She asked me to lay down in bed with my macbook. The ritual of laying in bed and chatting. I am so afraid of loosing the chat. That it could be the last image ever of her. I feel complicated by this ordeal. Why is it that women think I am the greatest guy, passionate, lovely, caring, a good cook, adventurous, creative, smart, humorous, romantic etc. But they seem always to look for something else. The superficials, the mean types, the muscles, the macho's. All the guys that seem to like to think of a woman as a chick, and only see them as a body and not a person. I wish I could be just like those assholes. But I can't. I know after this breakup I won't be in favor of a relation anymore. I can't do it anymore. Investing myself again, being accepted again, going thru the whole thing of building, investing and compromising.

I feel sleepy, but I am afraid to fall asleep. She has her eyes closed, lays on her bed with her angel like face. I look at her. Tears in my eyes. They already hurt so much from the pain and the cries the last hours. Before she laid down, she put on some music. Music that I played in the past for her. I feel you, les Djins, Coldpay, more songs. She dances in her red panty in front of the cam. Her typical dance, that is so her. It makes me always laugh and happy. Not this time. Now I can only think what I loose, how to proceed without her. Some say that no woman is worth the pain, but I can't help it. It's how I feel, I love her, every fiber of her. The little mole on her left ear. The 4 dimples when she laughs out loud. The strange birthmark on her back above her buttocks. The shape of her long fingers that so gracefully play the guitar. Her hairless armpits that I am always so obsessed with. The bridge of her nose, that I like to call my spot. Her beautiful full lips that can make so much noise when she is eating satisfied one of my dishes. Her legs, ah those legs. And my fascination for her pubic hair. So many things about her body that I know in detail.

She turns on the bed and some mumbling noise escapes from her mouth. It looks like she looks at me, but I don't see her really reacting to my staring. I lay down a bit more. My burning eyes frozen on the screen. I dose of a bit. Sometimes I scare awake, still checking for the image. If the chat is still open. Then suddenly it happens, the chat screen freezes. The last image of her on my desktop. Will I ever see her again......