I don't ...
I don't have words. Only irrepressible anger. Or disappointment. Or something between the two. And I have nothing to feel these things about.
I want to turn my back on it; to release myself in a cathartic denouement where I can forget him and leave all of this past. But I see him and I know that won't be. I'd like to take time to myself, but his presence lingers despite the ache that it causes. A lovely ache. Something that burns and seethes but at the same time, causes a dull ebbing away in, God knows what, the spirit? The heart? To quote him -- and this time, it's appropriate -- "Who the Hell knows?"
I feel myself stretched in overwhelming directions. And sometimes I wonder if subconsciously, he knows that I don't know what to do with myself, nor do I have any idea of what I really want from him. I need to sort that out; because only when I understand confidently what I want can I truly ask it of him.
And here's another alternate ending. I could be just asking too much, emotionally, from him. I mean, maybe his comprehension of affection is as shallow as my comprehension of marriage. I can't see the beauty of two people spending the rest of their lives together, I lack the emotionally and intellectual maturity to see that; maybe he can't see the point of having a partner with whom you hold hands and kiss, and become intimate with.
Maybe that's how I should see it.