Freed of a Hopeless Infatuation

For a good part of this year that is ending in a few hours, I was googly about a man who was obviously googly about me. He would frequently lose his train of thought when speaking to me or stop mid-sentence and stare at me or just be utterly confused in my presence. I hadn't experienced that kind of behavior for more than a decade. It was so sweet, so thrilling, so intriguing.

Of course, the cards were stacked high to the ceiling against us: He is 10 years younger than me, he is or was married (halfway through the year he stopped wearing his wedding ring), he and I have a professional relationship, and I'm a dialysis patient. I spent an awful lot of time thinking about him and fantasizing about him during the first 10 months of 2009.

But in the last few months something switched off. I still enjoy seeing him and talking with him, but I realize nothing will ever happen, and with that knowledge has come peace. Now I rarely think of him, and when I do, it's for practical reasons, not to indulge in some never-neverland dreaming.

A few times during the last few weeks, I have returned to an old ritual, talking aloud, as if to a lover, when I bed down at night. And when I went to the movies this afternoon, I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined my love--whoever and wherever he may be--sitting next to me, holding my hand, and smiling. May 2010 will be the year when that man appears in the flesh.