Nora Kinkaid Wants Her Life Back

Valentine's Day

Oliver, if you're able to feel this tonight of all nights, I want you to know, you were a wonderful love of my life. We will have different iterations down the line but I love you. I want you to feel that. I love you without fear, doubt or any airs. You were my lesson this year. You were my protector and my heart feels completely at peace with that. You have been my safe harbor so thank you. I'm energetically open to you if/when you want to communicate. I didn't think my final entry for the year would be dedicated to you but I guess it's meant to be. For some reason you are imprinted on my heart and soul. I know I'm waking up as a different person tomorrow in a good way and that's because of you. I am so happy I got to feel your love. I know I keep saying that but it was the biggest gift anyone could give me in the last year. I spent so much time trying to be enough for people and your love showed me I was perfect as me. I love you and I just want to say thank you, thank you, thank you. Please stop by whenever feels right.

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The month of January passed by in a bitter blur. Every inch of me hurt. I missed him like I was missing a limb. I don't care if that sounds dramatic. It was the God honest truth. I got back into the routine of work. I started taking better care of myself and tried to go out again. One night I went out with friends from high school who had also moved to Boston. They were big drinkers. We drank for six hours and when I had a martini I texted him. We'd never had a booty call. I had had them plenty of times with lesser men but I never put that on Oliver. He was too special to me. But I broke my own rule and he came over. He came over so late I had to go down to the building lobby to let him in because the doormen had gone home. I was caught off guard when someone was at the desk. The general manager was working the night shift that evening and he wanted to know why I was up. I told him I was waiting for my boyfriend. The lie only hurt a little bit after all the gin I'd had. When Oliver showed up I quickly whisked him into the elevator and once instead my apartment we stopped talking.

I will never forget the look he had in his eyes when we had stopped making out and I was standing at the edge of my bed. He was in the middle of it and crossed so quickly over to me I was breathless. He gave me this look that seemed to say, I want you more than you will ever know. I believed him. I still do. If Oliver looked at me like that now I would believe him a hundred times over. It's easy to believe someone when you see the truth in their eyes.

That was the first time I had seen him and truth since we first met and it was physically relieving. When I woke up in the morning, he was still asleep. I made coffee and read a book. I let him rest his head on my chest as I mindless brushed his hair. We stayed in bed until 1 pm when the spell was broken out of my need for food. I remember holding my breath the whole morning wondering when the other shoe would drop. I wanted him to stay. It would have been so easy for me to roll over and say, "I've made a massive mistake." When I said I was hungry and could order us something, he practically leapt out of bed. Apparently food was the boundary. Sex was fine, comfort and affection was fine. But eating with me was too much. He left in a hurry.

A week later he called and said "What are we doing" and I said "We're figuring it out." He said he needed time. He couldn't figure it out if we were sleeping together and texting each other late at night. He made it sound like I had broken the code of conduct on our relationship when it had only happened one time. I said "okay, I understand. Take all the time you need." I was in no position to tell this man how to feel about our dynamic. I was the one who had broken up with him and the one that asked him to come over. He was on an emotional rollercoaster ride he hadn't asked for.

He called me on Valentine's Day to let me know he didn't think it was a good idea to get back together. I know it was Valentine's Day because it's my favorite holiday. When I got home from work he called me. He was sorry but it was for the best. He wished me well. I felt like I was receiving a greeting card from an old-coworker. I reminded him it was Valentine's Day and he said "oh fuck" which I took to mean he had the decency to feel mildly bad. Not bad enough to not break up with me again. But bad enough to realize he had in fact fucked up. After that, we didn't talk for three months and I hated every single minute of it.