It is almost fever pitch

Beat.

There were always beats.

It reminds me of that year with Andy S. Unspoken words. Unspoken emotions. At some point, this will explode and I will lose my grip. Resentment and sadness will spill out…and I will have nothing except the remainders between my fingers, crumbling into nothingness.

This time though, I am older. Five years older.

The more that I think about this, the more that I know that it will fall apart. The more that I ponder and wonder, the more analysis. I tell myself logically that I need to give it up.

But I am pulled in multiple directions. Earlier this week, I was fine. I was managing well by myself. But the draw pulled me again.

I hate this game.

Stop standing next to me. Stop being…being with me. You mess with my mind.

And at the same time, I want it to be more. I want to stop it.

Somewhere with all the denial, all my struggles…somewhere I am just there with him.

It all started with a beat. It all started when I saw his inner passion. And from there, it slowly self-destructed and became…what I have right now. Nearly 5 months later.

I saw him glancing at me as I walked to my car as we were all departing. Maybe I was wishing for a reason to see him, and there it was. A car blocking my driveway. I texted him to ask what he was doing…and I went over.

There we watched two episodes of Buffy. Before the TV, we talked…over tofu/rice, tea and ice cream. He carefully scooped it for me, while playing his music.

I am stuck in the mud, unwilling to move on.

Earlier in the day, he asked the questions and made comments that struck me hard. I don\’t know you that well. Can a woman and man be friends…without…things getting in the way?

I said what I wanted to say. But there was a sadness that permeated my answer. He\’s not stupid so he must know. I am drawn to him, despite knowing that it\’s a bad idea. I am drawn, wanting to just spend time with him. So much so.

And here I am, physical intimacy lacking and it will still cause me anguish for years to come.