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11.10.03 :: 11:17 pm
And I just sent him home. Did you know that? I sent him home. Because if he can admit that he's not looking for anything serious, then I can admit to not feeling that great about just having sex. And you have no idea how sad, or how confusing. To look at him and touch him after a very, very long month. And to say bye. Because you know what? Part of me thought he'd come back somehow changed; that I somehow had changed him. But all that month did was reinforce inside him that he couldn't give to another person just now. And I'm a little drunk. Because that's how I know how to deal best. We drank and talked. And I said I can't take you home. I didn't expect it to hurt. But you can't realisticially expect to share yourself with a person intimately and not have your idiot heart tangled up in it. I am glad he told me the truth. And he didn't lead me to believe it would be anything more than physical. So it's pretty much my fault I let myself migrate into an alternate reality, some seaside resort of a kind. So I let him go. I can't do this. I'm way more vulnerable than I thought. Ironically, it's all or nothing for the both of us. We either have a relationship, or nothing at all. And since he's not ready for a relationship, then I can't give myself to him at all. In any aspect. Somewhere in the recesses of my head there's a poem with the line "to know the pain of too much tenderness." That's really all I can say right now. |