I know that I don't, not personally. But you remind me so much of someone.
His name is Jeff, too. And I hurt him terribly. In ways similar to the ways in which you have been hurt.
When I came back from my MLC and had to face him, tell him how wrong I'd been, he was in a place similar to where you feel you are at now. He was just so over it. He'd been hurt so deeply, jerked back and forth for so long, tried so hard...eventually he reached a place of disconnect. It was how he protected himself from any further pain.
We had to interract because of the children. Slowly, so slowly, one brick at a time I started tearing down the wall. It has taken two years. We are still living apart but he never filed for divorce. We are legally separated and neither of us are seeing others. We spend a good deal of time together. Over the past year in particular, we have grown closer. I have seen him take a risk here and there, letting me back in a little at a time. We are good friends now. Close. Sometimes he flirts with me, kisses me, we have "made out" if I may sound like a teenager for a moment. The biggest obstacles we face right now are the fact he's had two surgeries within the last 6 months and the last one, 2 weeks ago, has been really hard for him to recover from. I am the one that is there for him now. His family did not even call him for the first 5 days he was home from the hospital. I did. And I was over there making sure he was okay, had everything he needed. I'd have crawled up in the bed with him and stayed in that hospital room with him and he knows it. He KNOWS it. It has taken 2 years to get to that place. He had a lot of pain to process, then a lot of anger and bitterness. Then he had to allow himself to see the changes in me. And later still, he had to choose to let me be his friend again. If it never goes further than it already has, I have seen a miracle. But it has not been easy. I have swallowed my pride time and time again. That was a piece of cake compared to what he had to do though. He had to take a risk. He had to risk being let down again by me. Even in the smallest way and it was so hard for him. I saw it. I felt it. I appreciated his struggle. Then it became me that fought not to give up. The shoes always change feet, Jeff. Always.
I know this place you are in and all the words you use to try to convince everyone here that you're moving on and just feeling a twinge here and there for the good old days might actually fool a lot of people. Hell, you might even fool yourself, Jeff.
Maybe you need to be in THIS place of supposed detachment for now. It is you protecting yourself and it is a natural reaction.
But there is more coming.
When I was in the worst part of my MLC I had a very unique interaction with a feeble, old, black man I held a door for one day. Once he got outside, he turned and looked at me and said "as sure as the sun is gonna come up tomorrow, time changes things". That was it. Then he turned with his walker and started down the steps. When he said it I felt chills. It was eerie due to the timing - I was in my meanest phase of MLC and screaming for a divorce - But it was even more eerie because I just so happen to find a lot of wisdom in old, black men...they just know stuff, man...and I was riveted in that doorway when he opened his mouth. He might as well have stood there proclaiming the gospel to me. It moved me that much. It's a guarantee, Jeff. Time changes things. It also changes people. You can cocoon yourself up now and feel safe. But as sure as the sun is gonna come up tomorrow, time changes things. You have lost your hope. What you need in that engineers mind of yours, is a little faith.
