In a state of thixotropy

In his own way

He might not know it, but I can tell he’s trying to reach out. I don’t think he wants to. I don’t think he wants to get attached… in much the same way I don’t want to get attached. For fear of getting hurt.

There is a closeness we share, outside of the bedroom intimacy. There have been times when I almost said those words. Not even thinking about it. Just that they wanted to come out. As though it were the moment I got caught up in, and not because I’m pressured to say them… but because it was what I wanted to say. I want him to know how much he means to me. I want him to know that I’ll be there for him… in the best way that I can. That as long as he has me in his life, I am in his life. I’ll only back down if he asks me to.

And even then, I might consider trying to fight to keep him. Though I doubt I will… cause fighting to keep someone in my life in the past has turned out to be the wrong thing to do.

When he’s in the right mindset. When he’s “on his game” he has a brilliant way with words. We are so different in so many ways. In all of the weird superficial ways that I thought I’d have to find someone similar to me. I find it weird and somewhat amusing. This must be what they mean by opposites attract.

He has some shit he’s going through. He had a lot of shit he’s going through right now. I couldn’t write about it even if I wanted to, because I don’t know what it is. He’s still working through it. He’s still trying to make sense of it before he tells me about it. I’m curious, don’t get me wrong. I’m definitely curious. I’m just not willing to push him into telling me. I’m not going to force him to tell me anything. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me when he’s ready.

Though I know, in his own way, he’s reaching out. I just wish I knew exactly what he wanted me to do.

Tags: life, reflection, relationship, the boy
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Drunken Interrogation

As is the trend with the boy, it seems that after a night of drinking, he wants to talk. Don’t get me wrong, I adore talking to him. I feel this comfort with him, even on the phone, that I don’t often have with many people. We share this weird bond, if nothing else, on an intellectual level. It’s because of this that I like him so much. It’s because of this that I don’t often mind the questions he asks.

The other night, however, he went out with his roommate and another friend. No big deal. He lives so damn far away that there’s no way in hell the two of us are going to be able to do everything together. I’m honestly okay with that. I enjoy doing my own thing too, even if inside there’s that part of me that really wants him around… all. the. time.

After he got home, he sent me a text message. I responded. He called. From there it was only a matter of time before the conversation went downhill. It’s that I mind when he asks me questions about my life, or my experiences. I don’t mind at all. What bothers me more than almost anything else, is when I’m asked a question and in the middle of answering, I’m interrupted and asked another question.

Now, this is fine. Fine. You want to interrupt me before I have a chance to say something. Okay. No big deal. But please don’t accuse me of avoiding your questions, or “discounting my feelings for” yours. That is SO not the case.

He proceeded to try to piss me off (which he succeeded in doing, btw). He was trying to get me rilled up. He wanted me to bitch to him about something. Because he was determined to believe that I couldn’t possibly (actually) be happy and content. Oh no. That’s impossible! No, I’m exaggerating… slightly. No, what he wanted was for me to confront him with issues. Anything about him that might annoy the crap out of me.  I realize he’s not perfect. I know this. I accept this. I know and accept that I’m not perfect either. I just know that the things that bug me about him are small, and seemingly trivial, and I’m willing to be patient and see if they’ll work themselves out or become something that I need to discuss with him.

While I don’t necessarily agree with much of what he said, especially his “insight” into my psyche, I know that when he’s been drinking there is often a different version of him. What made me laugh, and I mean out loud near gut-busting laugh, was when he admitted that when he’s not intoxicated, he’s almost too scared to bring things up. Ah ha! *points an accusing finger at him* You are doing one of the BIGGEST pet peeves… evar! Don’t project your own discomfort onto me. Don’t point an accusing finger at me about not bringing up issues when it’s YOU who doesn’t feel okay with doing it (without alcohol). I did, absolutely, explain how much that bothers me. He said he would work on that.

I’m okay with that. I can work with that.

Despite him trying and succeeding in getting a rise out of me, we’re still good. I’m willing to try and from the sounds of it, he’s willing to try as well. Right now, that’s about all I could possibly ask for. Some effort.

Tags: life, relationship, the boy
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