Friday, August 5, 2011

He who can't be loved.

My friend Student Driver has been writing about a man she calls Type Geek for as long as I've known her writing.   This morning she wrote about him again in a post titled "One Last Time."  Because after 14 months of pushing and pulling, he's pushed her away again because he feels he has to, and this time is the (ostensibly) true end.
"We had an intensely passionate last few hours, we held each other tightly afterwards and slept for an hour, curled into each other, hands touching. In my hallway, we hugged. Longer and tighter and with more emotion than I have ever felt from him. He thanked me for everything. I told him that while I knew he wouldn’t, he knew where to find me, if ever…   Last night was the most senseless loss I have ever experienced. All because one little boy grew up thinking he was inherently not worth loving."
I'm sad for him ... that he knows that he holds people at length and can't get around it.  I'm sad for her more -- because she had to acknowledge that she was capable of loving someone unconditionally but that doesn't mean he's capable of loving back. 

I give Student Driver props; she's taken nothing about this situation lightly. Or for granted. For 14 months she's lived it from all angles -- as the aggressor, as the patient one, as caretaker and lover and sounding board and compatriot and in the end, the heartbroken one. 

And she writes so eloquently about her heartbreak it's difficult to not be heartbroken for her, especially as she walks away with grace.


Student Driver said...

Thank you.

cousin j said...

I just got a piece of advice from a friend, as I head towards marriage, she said her grandmother told her before her marriage "never forget that inside every man is a sensitive little boy." Apparently, it's a time told issue. Sorry for the whole situation. I've enjoyed your blog, too.

Student Driver said...

Thank you Cousin J. I'm walking away knowing that I loved him truthfully and honestly and that not once did I feel that he was a waste of my time. Who knows what the future holds.