Mine

How many times is she going to write about this, geez. Probably just as much as she writes about herself in the third person. She is kind of a dork.

I was thinking about this word again. I was thinking about the times it was said to me, and it was truly meant in that way you want it to mean.

It was said by one person a lot over the course of a few years, and in his own way, he meant it like you are supposed to mean it, and I still am sad that it didn’t work out, but it didn’t, and I moved on to someone else and truly felt that word on all the ways I wanted to. There was a possession there that my other relationships lacked.

I joked many years ago with my husband about how lucky he was to get past my walls when he did, because there really hasn’t been anyone else who could do what he did, with getting me to open up and create the best sort of romance and friendship. One man came so close, but we never met. I am almost glad we didn’t. I would have been in such a state if we did and he disappeared.

I was thinking again today about my feelings on him using that word, Mine. For so long, I thought he meant it in that way that had so much meaning, but we never did the work to get close enough. He never showed that he wanted to see me and know me, so I didn’t share myself.

But today, I don’t care about that so much. I don’t care if I don’t find that again. I’m happy to know I came close at least one more time. I can live with those memories even if it turned out they were all just fantasy.