Happy new year, goodbye

I saw Glenn last night and he looked old. Old and sad and fat. He had a goatee and it was gray, and I found myself thanking god that I didn't end up marrying an old, gray goat. He's so off in his own little world that there was almost no point in talking to him. He doesn't allow me anywhere near his heart. We sat at the bar in the Airport Hilton and had the same conversation we always have--about how he's right and I'm wrong. All the things he has to believe so he won't think twice about his actions last summer. Seeing him wasn't hard, but saying goodbye was torture. No matter what happens between two people, their bodies remember each other. We still fit together as if we were made for each other--after we hugged, I put my hand on his stomach the way I always used to and he kept his arm around me, the way he always used to. We stood like that so often together. And then he went upstairs to his hotel room and I went home. Or tried to. My brain reverted to old patterns and I turned around and got in the elevator with him and went up to his room. Nothing happened--my coat stayed on the whole time and I knew that he was humoring me by letting me talk at him while he got ready for bed. While he went through all the bedtime rituals that we used to do together. He didn't think twice about being in his underwear in front of me, and I hardly noticed that he wasn't dressed. We spent almost four years talking while getting ready for bed together, and I guess some kinds of rapport stay the same no matter what. But he told me that he just doesn't feel IT anymore. The thing that kept us close, I guess. And so I got up and went home and he flew to Los Angeles and I stayed in Boston. And when I woke up in the morning, I realized once and for all that that part of my life is over. Glenn is part of my past, my personal history. I can't change the role he's played but I can realize that not having him in my life is a good thing for everyone involved.