Something about today’s date felt oddly familiar to me this evening. It seemed as though it used to be important. Who did I associate it with?
And then it hit me. It was her birthday.
It’s really hard to explain my relationship with her. I’ve written about it before, so I’m not going to rehash it. But her birthday has me thinking about that again. And about other relationships. And about love itself.
Why are my memories of love so mixed? I’ve experienced some of my greatest joys in love, but my deepest agonies and hurts have also come from love and its aftermath. I need love, but the fear of being hurt again is so awful that it’s devastating.
The woman whose birthday is today is happily married and we haven’t spoken for a very long time. She eventually realized that I would never love her. She wasn’t willing to be my second choice. And she was wise enough to walk away instead of remaining my “back-up plan.”
Why is it that one person usually loves more than the other? And why do those relationships hurt the worst?

Petty politics as usual just might be Chris Christie’s bridge to obscurity
If the truth is blurry in your mind, how can you explain it to others?
What if most money spent for university degrees is useless?
‘Free money for everybody’? Is it smart for principled libertarians?
When I’ve done something great, nothing seems impossible to me
Briefly: Sufjan Stevens album always evokes old feelings about my mother
Going through old relics tells me I’m still same person I used to be
Romantic interest no easier now than it was for me in sixth grade