As we sat across from each other at dinner at the French restaurant, I got to the point. I panicked slightly earlier when he asked me about that moment—the strange moment we had as we drove up 17th street—\”was that a warning?\” what about our relationship? I had asked.
Dangling our feet as we blew through the delicious mussels, I lamented about Chris and me. I have a strange mix of wistfulness and sorrow—about the end of our relationship. I am afraid of letting go of familiarity. Loneliness is consuming. And that\’s how it was the first few months—August, September and October.
And it\’s only recently that I am starting to feel ok.
Well and here is Francis.
I know how I become in those moments when I become obsessive. I studied his face, his eyes. I know with time they can become something else completely and I\’ll moan about how wrong I was. But right at the moment, I just wanted to be there with him. Grabbing his fingers and rubbing them in mine.
And so I said it succinctly. I had feelings for him. I admitted that it made me question everything and I was in a mess right now. He admitted that he had feelings for me…only recently. He missed me. He thought about me. A lot.
Several weeks ago, I wanted him to reject me fully so that I could get past this. But it didn\’t go away. I thought that 6 months would resolve everything but I was here. Still here.
I hated my own weakness. So I struggled to clarify with a sigh…I tried…but it came back rushing back.
Logic is easy and it would be nice if that\’s all I had. But the longing was all-consuming and I saw him in that light.
As we departed later that night, I was thinking—could this be it? I wondered. But it was momentary and we just hugged goodbye.