There are no beginnings

Whenever it's been a really long time since I've blogged, I start by re-reading all of my old ones. They are unsurprisingly about him, my long-lost love, the man I spend my days thinking about. My blogs are sometimes about my best friend, sometimes about a current lover. But in between those posts are always long devotions to him, this man who continuously escapes me.
I have never described anyone with such detail, and I have never assigned "escapist" to anyone but him. For most people, there is nothing to escape from as far as I'm concerned. They can come and go as they please and I do not pay any attention. But I do with him. I want to understand him, I chase down breathlessly the meaning in his oft times meaningless words. I revel even in our miscommunications (which are, quite frankly, the bulk of our conversations) because they are still communications. No matter how much he hurts me I always return.
I can't write about him without asking myself what he would think once he reads these words. He has already read them, as he always finds my electronic feelings online. I can't hide them.
Part of me maybe wants him to find them. He's so far been the only one to admit that he has feelings he is unaware of, but I know it's true of me as well.
And so here we sit again. I'm quite happy that I don't have any other readers as this subject would undoubtedly get old for them. I can't blame them, it even gets old for me from time to time.
I don't write to entertain or chase away boredom. I write to get it out. I write to release, and when the stars are aligned I sometimes see my own way out of my perpetually more-deep mountain of emotions in my writings. I see where I've failed, I even see sometimes where I might succeed. But it's fleeting: it's on a page and it's gone again, I forget to remind myself why I decided to stop doing something or why I decided to start.
So very cyclic it is.
And we are here again.
I long for a place where I could write honestly, all of my failings on a page where I could scrutinize them.