Neither one of us was in a hurry. There did not seem to be any reason to resolve things, because they were just that way
. I was here, she was there and circumstances appeared to be unfixable.
It would have been better to have a real conversation, to talk about what it meant and where it left us, but we didn't. We would have little visits and talk around the subject like it was a pole in a crowded restaurant- I'll lean left if you lean right.
It was only later, after the letter finally came (the phone was even too personal it turned out), that we could finally finish what we had started. Describing it as over was so inadequate. The hope for a future, a life together had been gone for so long, it was just a folded postcard stuck on a crowded bedroom bulletin board. That was then , but it was a long time ago.
There is good nostalgia and then there are bad memories. You can remember how things were and not wish you could change it, just accept it. Or you can regret what was said and decisions you did not make. In either case what was, was.
Bittersweet is not a sad memory or a warm connection. It is the aura of those things that remain conflicted in your mind, the prickly feeling that brings you back to the pain of loss and the exhiliration that brought you to that point. With perspective you see you never would have been hurt if you hadn't loved so much. Remembering doesn't injure either one. But postponing things didn't help. We probably should have just played through.