So I’m sitting there. And the one who thinks he likes me is sitting next to me as I scroll through imagery of the one I love with someone else in his home presented as his heart, with another couple present. And he’s watching me. Wondering if seeing this will be it, be the feather that finally knocks me over and out of this unsuitable insanity. So that he can get his chance.
Which is all he cares about. His chance. This is all going on beside someone who isn’t aware I realize he has no love for me at all, only wants his chance to tag something that has been in his face for a long while now. He may have even liked me in all actuality once. Once. But he doesn’t know that I see in his eyes that is not the case at all these days as we hang. Maybe he doesn’t even realize it himself. But I am grateful to God that this time I do.
THIS is the first time I have been free enough in my heart and mind to really see the guys who HAVE been attracted to me in a better light, without the amplification of wild sex covering all missteps and eye shifts. I’m an unique female energy, so it doesn’t happen to the full very often. Most who are not about shit in life do not come around me dropping trough as brazenly as they would with the next.
But this has been surreal.
If he had shown up a year and a half ago, when all that was in my mind regarding love and hope was spilt across the floor, he would have easily ended up in my bed. Even after all these literal years of celibacy. He’s that much akin to what aspects of me used to happily gnaw on without decimating due to the cloth they were cut from, as long as it was short-term. Absently noted, he is a version of what my body pulls and my mind rolls with on default, platonic and otherwise, where my Ohioan comes out in full-force, something that hasn’t happened in decades.
But he didn’t show up 18 months ago. I don’t even remember when he did show up, but its been a while. & there have been breaking points in my life as of late that he’s been there witnessing the silent ripples OF across the surface of me with no clue as to what I’m actually walking through due to my violent privacy in real-time. But I know the truth is that he wouldn’t care anyway. The truth that hurts the most is knowing why I don’t share.
Because I can’t deal with the “chancers” anymore.
The pastiche of me has been healed and all of a sudden I am a very real woman who can’t find the stitches anymore that held me together before God did.
In the choice between make-believe in my head that I actually have enough faith to see it could one day become true and the choice between make-believe in my face with someone who glares at me when he thinks I don’t see, who doesn’t realize that every thought of his for better or for worse flits across his face…who doesn’t realize that I see he still has a hard time liking himself, even…
I’m going to choose the fantasy that gives me hope.
That didn’t use to be the case.
I used to give myself short-term respites with these guys. I cant anymore. I have no need to lick my wounds while straddling them anymore because God is the head of my healing team now and directs me towards things so as not to need to come away as scarred as I once did.
And it’s a opulent head to wake up in on Independence Day.
It was a dream.
That first bit.
But so is the last.
And if I am going to choose between dreams, I may as well choose the one that encourages me, that keeps me hammering out what it means to be blessing focused for this bodymind in this day and age.
But I can’t deny…the desire to kiss him, even conscious of all that, waits on me like a skittish hipster at a café sometimes. And maybe one day I will. Just to get it over with. Because I’m tired of him glaring at me, knowing I’d punch him if he leaned in again. Then again, it has happened with some who turned out to be the best of the platonic ones over this life. Some who are still actually in my life after the “oh-yeah, oops, sorry about that~” bad game buzzer sound aspect of kissing the one who’s supposed to be your friend, not lover.
But what it just registered to me as now is I gave up everything in a professional sense once to get the chancers out of my life there. I’ve done it in a friendship sense. And the moratorium on lovers has made it a non-issue in regards to relationships for much of this adult life.
Which is why it is appearing to be handled here. Ahead of time.
Which is kinda cool.