I'm 60 days clean!

No, I'm not referring to alcohol or cigarettes, but a similarly potent form of addiction. Almost everyday I struggle with the urge to call her, and it is kind of depressing that the attacks, although decreasingly frequent, are no less intense even now. I'd get the familiar hollow feeling starting at my heart and pretty much sapping the energy from my whole body. I'd pick up the phone, and lose myself in space for a while. It's no joke, but I won't hold it against you if you laugh. Ah...the curse of modern technology, putting temptation right at my fingertips.

It used to be worse, in the earlier stages. I'd come home from work some nights, tired and aching all over, open my room door and half-expect but fully hoping to find her there waiting for me. She does visit me, though, in my dreams. I did call her and email her then but I would've got a warmer reception if I'd asked my loanshark for a deadline extension.

Now, why do I want to call her so badly? I'm not even sure what I'll say. Maybe just to find out how she's doing. But I know, if she tells me she's busy with her new boyfriend, it'll crush me. I don't dare chance it. And it's not like I'm going to beg her to come back. I know it's over, yet somehow, I do miss her.

She was someone I could talk to. I mean, really tell her all my embarassing fears. She was someone I could joke with and tease, you know, the kind of teasing between close friends that can only work if there is mutual trust that it is done wholly without malice and all for fun.

I secretly loathe having to observe proper decorum and political correctness in social settings, knowing my incorrigible sense of wacky humour and would like nothing better than to start laughing and joking with complete strangers. Or maybe I'm just getting tired of the old song and dance routine, much to my disadvantage, perhaps. But with her, she was so easy to talk to that the first time we met, we were already poking fun at each other as if we were old friends. I knew something special was brewing. Have you ever met someone that you just instantly clicked with?

I found a rare kind of intimacy with her, and yet, we failed to communicate to save what we had. I guess we rushed into things, disillusioned with how very compatible we were in the beginning.

Looking back, I needed her more than she needed me, but she appreciated me more. About a week before we broke up, I distinctly remember one evening at my office when I vowed to myself to treat her better, to be more patient and try to listen more. I guess it was already too late. It's memories such as these that haunt me forever.

So, maybe, I just want a chance to say I'm sorry to her. Well, in fact, I did call her to tell her that. But unless "sure, anything else?" is the appropriate response to a heartfelt apology, I guess she was still bitter towards me.

Or maybe I just want to talk with her, like old times, about anything and everything under the sun. When we could let our guard down and just say whatever pops into our heads without fear of it being inappropriate or being judged.

I miss her friendship most of all. She was the best friend I had in a while. The sudden loss might help explain the deep emptiness I feel but that's of little consolation.

I venture though, more than anything, I want to call her to tell her how much I appreciated her, eventhough I know it's too late. Tell her I am grateful how she gave all she had to me. And how I wish we can end what we had with sweet memories, instead of bitterness.

Today, alone in the kitchen, I called out her name. You know, just to see how my heart would react. Well, there were no seizures. That's a sign of improvement, isn't it? I called out her name a few more times, remembering how it felt like rolling off my tongue. And I felt profoundly sad, her name echoing into oblivion, a chasm of good intentions too late, of all that could've been.

I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to call her. I'm inclined to blame this emotional recklessness on the rogue chemicals in my brain or perhaps it's coinciding with the end of World Cup season. I managed to put off thinking about her for a month, but to my dismay, the cloud of gloom still hangs over my head. There's no hiding from the reckoning of a broken heart.

Perhaps blogging about it helps. I'm not sure if she knows about my blog or reads it, but I can't imagine the difference it makes since I absolutely blog whatever's on my mind anyway. I don't exactly make it a point to protect my anonymity but I do like to fly at the edge of the radar.

I'm searching my feelings but I can't seem to identify the one that is causing me much pain. Is it guilt? Regret? Anger? Loneliness? Longing?

I know a time will come when I no longer think about her with any feeling, probably a year on. But I feel I owe her more than that, for the love she gave me.

I am at a midpoint of adulthood where I am sufficiently equipped to evaluate my failings and try to improve myself. And I am eager, almost desperate, to start a new relationship and prove to myself that I have now what it takes to make it work.

But I know, my unresolved feelings are the baggage I must not carry in my next journey to find love. I need to find peace somehow. And stop missing her so much.

Any suggestions?