Touch of Pink.
If I could give Touch of Pink more than the maximum of five stars on Netflix I certainly would. It’s a true ‘you’ll laugh, you’ll cry’ sort of movie. Perhaps it’s just hitting a bit close to home, as it is said.
I can’t sleep anymore, at least not when I want to. I’ve tried to go to bed at a ‘reasonable hour’ every night for the past week. If I do manage to actually fall asleep I find myself waking up around 2 or 3 in the morning; that is when he’d normally be calling to ask me to open the door for him.
It’d be easy to say that I miss just that, having someone to share the mundane of our lives on a daily basis with, but it really goes beyond that. It would not fill the void if it were anyone else.
I miss that bashful uncertainty whenever I’d give him a compliment. I also miss that smile that would grow to each ear everytime I’d kiss him.
Then there are those moments that are extra special for no justifiable reason. I cherish that he was so incredibly nervous when we first went out, because I was too, just hiding it better.
On our second date he ordered a “Kiss Me Mocha” …I never did find out if ordered that with purpose or it was mere coincidence, or even if he noticed that I noticed. I had to resist the urge to right then fulfill that request… and spent the rest of that evening hoping that when I finally found the courage, that I’d be right in doing it.
My mother commented to me that she wished she had a man that would cook her dinner at two in the morning. I felt that he deserved something nice, and if the only way to provide that was cook a multi-course meal in the middle of the morning, I’d be doing it. It was Valentine’s Day, you’re supposed to go above and beyond… for those you love, or even someone you may in the future. I knew that I’d done something… worthwhile and good, something worth remembering… when he had tears in his eyes after giving him the flowers. I’m happy I could do that; bring someone happiness, even if briefly.
I keep waking up at three in the morning because I keep hoping that I’ll hear from him, that he’ll show up and want to see me. I think it’s pure delusion at this point, but I really do want to know what went wrong, and I still want to fix it… if it is indeed something that I can fix.
I keep walking this line between what might be better for him and just how much …agony… I can allow myself to go through. I don’t truly know if what he needs is to be alone, be apart from me, but I do want him to be happy… and as I hope he’d know, that’s always been my goal in the relationship.
I can’t apologize for something that I don’t know about, but I can forgive. I also will not apologize for those things I am aware of, if my reasons behind them will not be heard. I’ll be naive, I’ll say with all optomisim that I want to step backward, and just pick up wherever things did go off track… because, right now, all I really want is to see that smiling face of his, and to know… that at least just a tiny part of why is me. …because when I was smiling, he was much more than a tiny part.
I also tend to wonder if he actually read my letter….. If absolutely nothing else, I want this horrible sinking feeling to end.