I had a long text message from Jeff today. He wanted to know if I had forgotten him, or whether I just wanted to forget him, and why he only heard from me if he contacted me first. I guess it is a fair question - or series of questions.
But as far as he is aware I am working on my relationship with my husband, so I think he should give me space and time.
I have told him this, and that I feel he is pressurising me. So he texted back, an incredibly long text, saying no pressure, he understands, but he would love some good sex with me sometime soon.
Sex is something a man can seperate from all else that is going on. It is just Sex, it is not betrayal. He does not love me, just lusts me. That is okay, I do not want him to love me, I do not love him. The sex is good with him, but I cannot seperate it like he can. Sex for just sex, for old times sake, one last time? I don't think I can live with myself if I do that, so I won't.
Yet still I haven't told him that yes I want to forget him, and I am not sure I know why that is.

It is a week since I last blogged. I have had my leadership training in Germany, and my collegue behaved impeccably, as did I. Now I am back, and seem to be surrounded by memories of past love.
I texted Mark last week, it turned out he was in Israel, which coincidentally was where he was last year when I visited Germany. That was Valentines day 2006. We had a misunderstanding, where he thought I wanted him to finish with me, and I ended up heartbroken, and he had to call me, hotel to hotel. Probably an expensive misunderstanding.
So now it was again, he was there, I was in Germany, and I remembered the last time.
At home I see him everywhere, in the pieces of Jewellery he bought me, in the pair of jeans I bought when we were together, at the Station where I had to change trains when I was coming back from Germany. We had visited that station together, sat in that photo booth. Whenever I use an airport, I remember Mark, as airports figured so large in our relationship.
He is everywhere and nowhere, and it does not really help me get over him.
My other lovers I remember in my home town, in the office car park, when I pass a restaurant where we met, at the Station where I met another.
I have decided that maybe it is better with lovers, to trade no gifts, no memories, and to only go places that one never normally goes.