Blissful Ignorance

I have never been fond of ignorance, but the past week has made me wish for it. If I could apply ignorance to one specific area of my life, just turn one person into a vague, fuzzy outline, I would not feel the way that I do. I could carry on with my day and not think about this person, and how they feel about me, at all.
It has been four weeks since Mike sent me the text message that is currently ruining my week, and for all that it has brought to light that is positive, I would give it all back if I could go back to the way things were. He asked me if I could tell he had a crush on me, and why I had "picked" our friend Liam over him. I hadn't really thought about it yet, but then some cogs and wheels clicked and started moving. It all made sense, why I was making out with Liam and not trying anything with Mike, and not only because my sister asked me not to (she had a long-ago infatuation with him, and said it would hurt her feelings). I chose to ignore the signals Mike was throwing my way because I knew I would end up right here, where I am now, dealing with all of this confusion. I willfully disregarded his flirting because I knew I wasn't ready, and that he wasn't ready, for feeling this way about someone else.
I started thinking about Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind today. If I could pay someone to just take the memory of him telling me he likes me out of my head, I would not hesitate and pay whatever they asked. I am not ready, and now, even though I still want to be around him all of the time, that desire to be near him carries a significantly different weight for both of us. It's hard to be near him and not want to put my hands on him, to lean into something that feels natural. It is similar, yet very different, from being around Gino, and trying to just be friends with him. I am forever shoving my hands into my pockets to keep them away from Gino as well, but with him it's more out of habit, not out of a desire to explore something that is new and exciting.
Not much has even happened, and I still feel as though I have done too much damage just by being me. I told myself the other day that if I really care about Mike, and also about myself, I will just leave him alone. I will stop texting him, stop trying to insist we can spend time together as just friends, and let him get on with rebuilding his life. And I can get on with the same thing. Layering this interest in Mike on top of grieving for my marriage has left me feeling split, right down the middle, between two things that make me sad. The guilt on Gino's face is just as bad as the conflict on Mike's face when either of them looks at me, and I cannot win with either one of them. Gino closed his heart on me after seven years of loving me, and Mike can't even get his to open.
Between worrying about both of them, I can't even tell who I am anymore. I have no idea if I could open up, either, but I suspect I couldn't yet. I still talk about Gino too fondly, with too much love for him, and I still cannot see him as someone who hurt me. I still miss him too much, miss waking up with him and seeing him come in the front door, to hate him for putting me here. He is too dear to me, the person who knew me best and who I loved the most. I am still letting go of all of that. Even if Mike was suddenly amenable, I know I would let him down by still loving so many things about my ex.
Mike sent me another message the other day, after a few days of not responding to some mundane text messages from me, and said that he wasn't ignoring me, that he just doesn't know what to say because anything he says would make it worse. I came back at him with the exact same sentiment. I know what to say to him when we are with other people, but once we are alone I can't get around the things I want to say to him, the questions I also want to ask him, and the tense, heated energy that pulses like a living thing between us. The only course of action we both decided is best is to cut ourselves off- no kissing, no touching, no referring to the fact that we were just naked together a few weeks ago. I can't ask him for these things just because I'm hungry for them. We have an agreement that we won't be alone together for the time being, just because it is easier to pretend when we have witnesses.
I explained to him, last week, after Liam took off and we were by ourselves at his house, that I originally latched onto Liam, who I have known and liked for four years, because he is safe. He is like a pair of black yoga pants- I know he'll fit and he's comfortable. He is the safe option. Mike is like a size 2 Azzedine Alaia dress that I have in my closet and don't fit into yet. The problem is not that Mike wouldn't fit into my life- I am nothing if not adaptable, able to shape myself to accomodate anyone. The problem, for now at least, is that there is no room for me in his life. He has walled himself up, turned himself into an island, and though I have the interest in getting through to him, I'm not sure that I have the energy. I saw a flash of what a relationship with him could be like, and though I really liked what I saw, I know that it is a teaser trailer to a film that might never come out, or might not come out for years.
One thing that became clearer to me this week is that although jumping into another relationship would feel good, it would not feel right. I was willing to disregard my own misgivings about it because Mike is such a great guy, so cute and so magnetic, but they were there all along. I know I am really exceptional at ignoring my feelings. I was ignoring the unease of getting involved with someone so soon after separating from a man I loved so deeply because the good was eclipsing the bad. That pain is still there, sharper than ever after setting it aside for a few weeks while I was distracted by Mike. Cutting myself off from the hope, from the dream of finding someone new, I am forced to address the pain, to make sense of it and let it run me through. I know that being miserable for a little while longer is going to serve me better than feeling superficially happy would, even though it hurts so much. Almost four months after my separation from Gino, it amazes me that there can be all of this fresh pain to deal with when I thought I was almost at the end. Turns out, I was fooling myself. Big surprise.