Beat.<\/p>\n
There were always beats.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
This time though, I am older. Five years older.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
I hate this game.<\/p>\n
Stop standing next to me. Stop being…being with me. You mess with my mind.<\/p>\n
And at the same time, I want it to be more. I want to stop it.<\/p>\n
Somewhere with all the denial, all my struggles…somewhere I am just there with him.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
I am stuck in the mud, unwilling to move on. <\/p>\n
Earlier in the day, he asked the questions and made comments that struck me hard. I don\\’t know you that well.<\/i> Can a woman and man be friends…without…things getting in the way?<\/i><\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
And here I am, physical intimacy lacking and it will still cause me anguish for years to come.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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. … Continue reading It is almost fever pitch<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-508","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/508","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=508"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/508\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=508"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=508"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=508"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}