She said that I will feel a shift in my behavior. Or in life.
When I opened my eyes, she said that I looked different. Did I? All the struggles with Heather and that childhood trauma still sits with me—but now there\’s a different perspective that did not occur to me.
Upon arrival at home, I wanted to instinctively call Chris. And that I did…just to say hello…just to check up on him. But he did not answer. It was shortly after 10.
And there was this strange feeling that…with Francis, I was uncertain. I wanted nothing but to feel safe in someone\’s embrace, but I was not happy with being in purgatory.
Nearly all the time that I am with Francis, I am usually…at peace. I think. But there\’s a part of me that\’s on guard. I am afraid to be vulnerable, protecting myself. And yet there\’s this incredible desire to have the quality time. I just want to be with him—endless time. Staring at his eyes—so unlike mine. So different.
And then it doesn\’t happen, it\’s silent. I am there next to him, unsaid words, unmade promises. Because fear seizes me.
But yesterday was the day that I made a difference. Yesterday was the shift.
On the way back to SF—a drive that I insisted on accompanying (perhaps due to my shift—no desire to be left behind and clearly stating my own wants), I broached the subject. I don\’t recall exactly what I said but he finally decided to clarify, \”With our feelings for each other?\”
Beat.
I didn\’t mean for it to come up with that—I wanted to be the one to provide clarification. But the words struggled to come up for so long.
I hesitated. He said, \”They come and go.\”
I paused and responded, \”The same.\”
\”When I was away, I really missed you.\”
I tumbled through the next few minutes and somehow knew that there may be nothing that happens on this trip, but maybe soon.