crazy
I don't know why I have chosen this blog today--except that I do. I feel such cautiously optimistic--almost to the point of the surreal. Yesterday, in his arms, the familiar was both unfamiliar and familiar. I lose track of time. I lose track of everything. I don't want to lose track in myself. I don't want to take a risk again.
He says the right words--punctuated throughout the evenings with "man of my word"--words. I love words. So, why do I find it so difficult to believe his? I want to be happy. I believe I deserve to be happy. But can happiness happen now? What changed? We both find ourselves on an ending,and apparently at a crossroads.
"You know I'm crazy about you." What?! Why weren't you crazy about me then? Why now? Too busy. Didn't date. Why? He professes because he was crazy about me.
The words are hollow--not that he doesn't say them with conviction, although, maybe that is part of it--he's almost embarrassed about them. these words. and why shouldn't he be? those words make him vulnerable.
Unpopular decision. He has had this crafted. This speech. Not that I didn't have somethings in my arsenal, prepackaged, ready to go. "The proposition I made 2 years ago has expired. And I haven't decided if you're worth the trouble yet." The statement was intended to make clear that he had fallen well past the statute of limitations, while at the same time injecting a bit of a challenge--you should prove to me you are worth the trouble.
He went beyond that with his "crazy about you"--
Super mastermind? or Sincere?
He's a good man. I've always held this. What he does for people he cares for; how he protects them; . . . but then I think how he hesitated two years ago and then never pursued. Never explained. Just dropped it. And I'm supposed to swallow that he has been crazy about me for these two years but that the timing was wrong and that he was just too rational.
I'm his opposite in that--I'm too irrational, too reliant, oftentimes, on emotions--though dealing with regents and with senators/members of the assembly has made me savvier.
This is what is so disturbing. I could feel the wall I erected for him--to keep him out--to keep him at bay--to never show him what that rejection felt like--that everything I saw would remain only with me. I could feel that wall--even in his arms--solid. hard. cold. rational.
I'm safe so long as I am distance--and yet (of course, there's an "and yet") I flash to his face,to his neck, to his lips on mine, to his embrace, to my hands in his hair, on his arms, then pinned behind me so that I am not giving myself away by reaching for him, and I flush and then my body shakes as if it were cold.
30 minutes to closing. I need to read.
arms outstretched in front of me, head turned to the side and my gaze down . . .
He says the right words--punctuated throughout the evenings with "man of my word"--words. I love words. So, why do I find it so difficult to believe his? I want to be happy. I believe I deserve to be happy. But can happiness happen now? What changed? We both find ourselves on an ending,and apparently at a crossroads.
"You know I'm crazy about you." What?! Why weren't you crazy about me then? Why now? Too busy. Didn't date. Why? He professes because he was crazy about me.
The words are hollow--not that he doesn't say them with conviction, although, maybe that is part of it--he's almost embarrassed about them. these words. and why shouldn't he be? those words make him vulnerable.
Unpopular decision. He has had this crafted. This speech. Not that I didn't have somethings in my arsenal, prepackaged, ready to go. "The proposition I made 2 years ago has expired. And I haven't decided if you're worth the trouble yet." The statement was intended to make clear that he had fallen well past the statute of limitations, while at the same time injecting a bit of a challenge--you should prove to me you are worth the trouble.
He went beyond that with his "crazy about you"--
Super mastermind? or Sincere?
He's a good man. I've always held this. What he does for people he cares for; how he protects them; . . . but then I think how he hesitated two years ago and then never pursued. Never explained. Just dropped it. And I'm supposed to swallow that he has been crazy about me for these two years but that the timing was wrong and that he was just too rational.
I'm his opposite in that--I'm too irrational, too reliant, oftentimes, on emotions--though dealing with regents and with senators/members of the assembly has made me savvier.
This is what is so disturbing. I could feel the wall I erected for him--to keep him out--to keep him at bay--to never show him what that rejection felt like--that everything I saw would remain only with me. I could feel that wall--even in his arms--solid. hard. cold. rational.
I'm safe so long as I am distance--and yet (of course, there's an "and yet") I flash to his face,to his neck, to his lips on mine, to his embrace, to my hands in his hair, on his arms, then pinned behind me so that I am not giving myself away by reaching for him, and I flush and then my body shakes as if it were cold.
30 minutes to closing. I need to read.
arms outstretched in front of me, head turned to the side and my gaze down . . .
