today.

i stood there, today, looking at his back, at his cute little tush (not too little, just perfect), thinking "he's one of the good ones, i think." and still, i stood there wishing, from the depths of my heart, wildly unknown to me until it creeps into my late night thoughts, as it so often does, wishing, dreaming, pretending he was someone else. someone i know is so much "worse." someone who broke my heart once, has never apologized, and who, undoubtedly, i would let break my heart a million times more, if he would.
why is it that heartbreak from some people is so much more priceless, so much more sought after, than happiness with another? how can i even think about letting him break my heart again? and again and again and again until the day i die. is this love? that i sink so low, willing to break for someone who doesn't need me? that i'm willing to leave every good path i know and travel, to follow someone whose value for me doesn't extend beyond occasional sex, and some fun times?
love is so many things. it's sacrifice, dependence, loss, pain, need, and passion, and does not abandon for mistreatment, rejection, dishonesty, or betrayal. love is so beyond reason, i lay myself aside one thousand times a week to pour my soul into another being, whether he accepts my soul or not. and in this case, he does not. he only takes advantage, and takes for granted, and takes whatever i give him, absorbing what he chooses, and banishing the rest to be swallowed back, choked down, and regurgitated later--by me.
this is love. a very one-sided love, but marked with all the intensity and passion of a love so true. where does it end? when does it stop? at what point, do i say "enough," and choose to move forward? more importantly, can someone please, please take me to that point and throw me over the edge, that i might jumpstart this process called "getting over him"?
the process has begun. it began when i saw the glint in his eye. the glint that spoke a million rejections, a million betrayals. the day i got on a plane and left his arms, i began the process, the long, trying, immobilizing and paralyzing process, of doing this thing called moving on. who knows how long it will take. i just passed the two-month mark, and time is moving slowly. but time is like medicine, healing and soothing, and powerful. it will end, this pang, or "knife" as some say, stabbing through my heart when i wish one man were another. time is my mother, my best friend, my physician and my comforter. today, time is my ally.