To write again ...

Tomorrow I meet TheAviator. For the first time. After two whole years of talking on the phone, thrice a day, then once a day, then once in 3 days, then once a week, and now sometimes, once in two weeks. We talk. We used to flirt. Now we tease, make fun. It’s nothing now. There is no love, there are no great feelings. Maybe there never was. I want to be sure to write all this down, so that tomorrow, when I’m giddy from his scent, I can remind myself that he means nothing to me. When I’m missing him, I can remind myself, that I never really had him.
I don’t know when I’ll meet him. Sometime in the evening, or some such. He’s going to be in my city. He’s going to be here. Sitting in my car, I’m going to be able to watch him smile and laugh. I’m excited.

It’s a week after I wrote that post. I never posted it. I never met him. We hardly talk now. I don’t know why he suddenly couldn’t meet me. I don’t know if he suddenly wasn’t curious. He wasn’t curious and I was. That almost never happens.
I have a constant knot in my stomach because I feel almost certain now, that I won’t see him. Ever. It feels like that. Sometimes, when things finally end, when hope finally fades, you just know. And this time, I just know.
I don’t even remember the last time I genuinely hoped for something to happen between the two of us….