Post Script: For The Record

For the record...
The subject of "Sad Sorry Love Story" and many writings in "Scars Don't Fade" was BN...
I feel that it is important for the sake of my friends who read this blog to explain that this nonsense has truly come to an end. Let me explain...
In late September, ran into BN at a party. It was one of the smallest parties that either of us had been to in a long time, and neither of us was closely affiliated with the hostess... so the meeting was truly a surprise. We walked outside together and sat on the curb for a talk and a smoke...
A girlfriend of his had read some of my writings and worked out who they were about... and she had showed him. He said it gave him insight that he hadn't fully understood previously about the damage he had done to me. We said goodbye for a final time that night, agreeing that a friendship or any contact for that matter was not a possibility between us. A month later I saw him at another party and it was as though we'd never met. Another month and a half passed when I learned that he would be moving out of town. Perhaps that was what prompted him to call me out of the blue; perhaps that's why he wanted to get together.
I won't lie. I returned the calls. I played along in making plans. I even agreed to go to his going away party...
But so much else is going on for me, that it truly remained in the back of my head until the very moment I arrived...
I felt so complete that night, having come from a celebration that I helped out at and took part in, at a resource center where I've been volunteering. The center does work with migrant farmers and their families, providing food and blankets etc as well as community to that population as well as any others in need...
My cheerfulness was contagious and I moved around the party engaging anyone who would meet me...
When I finally got around to seeing Ben he looked nervous and withered...
He didn't look me in the eye but brushed against me when he walked by, carrying a characteristic bowl of sausage towards the kitchen...
I didn't follow...but eventually he did make is way back to me
And struck up a conversation which in summary went like this:
(Him) I'm totally wasted.
It bored me in every possible sense to stand there with him...
His sarcasm seemed drawl and his presence was saturated in coke smoke and booze...
And rather than reply when he asked if I had free time this week for us to get together...
I simply said "Good luck, Ben."
Go with blessings but by all means, go, and don't return....

And since that moment, I've experienced pure freedom from want for him...
I volunteer in Davenport every day and walk by the cottage where we so often made love....
(Where heso often made love, with partners who are popping up for me now all over town...)
Without my throat tighting, with no involuntary glance, and lacking squeamish stomach:
I don't miss him! At all! Better yet-- I feel that I've Won, because I get to stay
And reap the blessings of a magical, beautiful place
For which I fell more deeply and sincerely
Than for any thankless man...