I don't believe any two people were ever "meant" to be together.
If I believe in anything, it's the concept of alternate realities, which is supported by science. I believe in an alternate reality (actually many), where things went just a little bit differently, and Ann and I are together now and very happy.
I've never met anyone else like her. I've never felt closer to anyone else. I've never felt more comfortable with who I am than when I was with her. I've never felt as natural talking with anyone else as I felt talking with Ann. I've never felt like I belonged like I did when I was with her. I never understood what being emotionally available meant until I met her.
I miss her almost childlike innocence about some things. I miss her perceptiveness and her instincts about people. I miss her pretty, fresh face that still makes me ache when I see it or think about it. I miss her beautiful long blond hair that smelled so great. I miss her delicate wrists and ankles. I miss being so proud of her. I miss doing nice things for her. I miss making her feel better and being reassured by her. I miss driving with her. I miss walking at the park with her. I miss touching her. I miss meeting her friends. I miss grocery shopping with her and watching television with her. I miss making plans with her -- evening plans, weekend plans, next month plans, long-term plans. I miss our great conversations. I miss going to Austin with her. I miss being best friends with her. I miss looking in her soft, gentle eyes. I miss walking around with her holding hands.
But what I really miss are all the new things I believe we should be doing right now together. Traveling, new activities, creating a beautiful home, getting good at cooking, having house parties, meeting her family, thinking about the future, riding motorcycles, adopting a couple of cats, taking care of each other, planting flowers and shrubs and setting up a comfortable backyard, growing closer, enjoying all that the holidays have to offer, etc. Things we never got to do.
Recently Ann finally told me that we will never be together. I don't know what took her so long. I held out so much hope for so long. I knew that I loved her and that I would always feel this way and that she was the one -- the one I wanted to be with. I wanted to try again, to nurture something real and meaningful. Right after she told me, I was numb, but I had gotten so used to the spectacular rise of hope and the toxic feel of disappointment in the past year and a half that I shrugged it off. But over time the realization that this will never happen and that she feels nothing for me and that she really was the best thing that will ever happen to me and that we really should be together now and very happy has started eating away at me like cancer.
I wish I could turn off all of these feelings and thoughts, but I can't. It's too real. She is one of a kind, and changed the course of my life forever. This shouldn't have happened. I wish I could creep into that alternate reality, or go back in time, or visit Ann in my dreams. I'd give everything I have, because I feel like a big part of me and a big part of my life is missing. I'd like to see where it would take us.
What can I do?
Ann's brother Kevin passed away. She is devastated. I never met him, but I can sense the great pain in her words. It makes me think about how short and irreversible and fragile human life is. It makes me think that spending it alone is tragic. It makes me think I should have met Kevin. Maybe this wouldn't have happened, or maybe I would have been there to feel the pain with her.