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Tuesday, March 25, 2003

Her name is Saara, and this is her Blog.

From her March 24 entry:
I keep dreaming of you and things are the way they are now: I'm engaged to someone else, you've been out of touch for so long. We see each other - I think I've flown all the way there to see you only I cannot remember getting on/off a plane but there we are, and I pretend that it's all good, that I still don't get that sharp pain sometimes when I think of us, and you're being good, not just good, great: charming, sweet - all the things I loved you for. And I ask you those questions I've been wanting to for, ooh, 3 years now and you tell me truthfully that you were scared. We laugh and are so easy together. Your hair is longer and darker, curly even, you let the streaks of blonde grow out. I run my fingers through it playfully and it feels just the way it used to, thick and silky. You take my hand in yours and see my ring and then it hits me: we can't just run away and pretend it was all a bad dream. I have someone else now, someone not afraid to love me and make sacrifices for me. I tell you how good he is to me and you smile sadly, you know you missed your chance. I tell you you could have called me, could have let me know you were still mine all this time, but you tell me I should have known.

It hurts less now to think of you, less than last year, or the one before. Less than that last night we spent together where I felt I was tearing in two. Where we sat in our apartment and smoked and watched the snow outside swirl around the streetlight. I wished time would stand still, swore I would not sleep, but in the end I was exhausted from crying all week, and there was to be no last-minute reprieve. You held it together so well - you'd only ever cried that once, three months earlier, when I was trying to decide whether to go home then or stay for New Year's, the millennium and I asked you what you wanted and you said me. We slept badly that last night, I kept waking up to see the time. Finally we awoke at 5 and you were doing a great job of keeping me preoccupied until you found the card I had made for you and you collapsed on our bed, sobbing, clutching my t-shirt. We drove to the airport in swirling snow and I hoped for a moment that my plane would be grounded, but then it was only prolonging the pain. You watched me smoke my last cigarette outside the airport and snowflakes landed on my lashes and froze with my tears. You said we'd be together again but somewhere deep down I knew it was over...


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