The Run-In

So, hypothetically, if the man you loved told you he didn't think he could marry you but that he would take some time to figure it out and then you just never heard from him again (nor would he even respond when you tried to reach out to him), if you ran into said man for the first time in the 6 months since this happened and his reaction upon seeing you was to pull you into a warm embrace and say "I missed you, so we should talk," how would you feel?

A few words have come to mind this week--hypothetically--words like confused, shocked, and sort of pissed off (notice I did not say hopeful, because that ship sailed somewhere around month 2), but the word that best sums up how I feel is a rather disheartening one: Regression. See, I've made so much progress. It's quite remarkable. I've been proud of myself. You give a girl yoga, a therapist, and a life coach, and it's amazing what she can accomplish even without an ounce of closure. And I wish I could just shrug this week's encounter off with a "No thanks, I'm good," but the heartbroken and curious girl in me has reverted back to wanting an explanation. I mean, if he's offering answers, however overdue they may be, I'd like to hear them.

Is this a bad idea? Hypothetically? It's too late, really, as our Very Overdue Conversation date and time is set and fast approaching. I suppose I could should cancel, but I can't won't. If closure is back on the table, I'd like mine, thanks. (If next week finds me back in the weeping-over-his-love-letters-while-listening-to-Tristan-Prettyman-on-repeat stage, you'll know the regression has reached full mass.)
.