During the movie, we gave knowing glances and smiles to each other when something we shared came up. A song from Desire and Glass Candy. A blow-up globe. Words spoken.
Afterwards as we parted ways as I turned into my driveway, I felt my heart stretch. Broken, maybe. It tore a little.
I hope to see you soon, I said.
Maybe Sunday, he responded.
Some day? I hope so! I said…with a tinge of longing.
No I mean Sunday…
But today, he told me that he couldn\’t make it on Sunday. I didn\’t want to press because I didn\’t want to know whether it was because—Chris was around, because he was truly too busy to make it, because he wasn\’t interested in the film.
In some way as other people have said, it\’s because he doesn\’t like me enough. There\’s a part of me that doesn\’t want to accept it. I think of him fondly…wishing that it was more…and am in anxiety because it just won\’t happen. But I am playing the game, I don\’t know why. Why am I letting my hope be so vivid when it\’s almost clear that there\’s nothing that will happen.
And then every few days, I keep thinking—what if I stopped trying, will he stop trying too? But I think that\’s stupid, so I ignore it. And I can\’t help it.
Love is it? Limerance?