The other day, and again today, I found myself marvelling at how our brains have the capacity to focus on the past and the future but almost exclusively reside in the present. Moreover, not just the present like "today," but the present like "now." The past fifteen minutes and the coming hour are where we spend almost all our thoughts.
Friday during the day, I was obsessing about David. I had only work to do otherwise, and so my thought were pretty much of nothing else. Yet Friday night, I went to the cowboy bar and completely forgot about him. Well, ok, not "completely" as I did mention the day's activities to a couple folks, but it was so much less important when other things were there.
When I got the eventual response this past Tuesday, I was nervous reading it, but I pretty much knew the answer was going to be no, and in some strange way, I'd made my peace just talking to him on the phone for fifteen minutes. Indeed, I think the not being able to talk to him, the absolute banishment from even getting a response to e-mail, was a big part of the problem.
He thought it over, and he doesn't want to meet. And sure, I still wish he did, but that's the way the ball bounces. As I was telling Larry the other day, you can either readjust your perspective and go with it, or be miserable and resentful. The latter is going to pretty much just hurt one person: yourself.
And so, today I've found myself quite content, worried about what Jamie would think, nearly bouncing off the walls with nothing interesting to do, and everywhere in between. The amazing part is that the feelings were so intense in their immediacy, but now they're just thoughts I had today. The connection to them is so much less than it was in that magical hour and fifteen minute window.