12.20.07

So there we were. Sitting and talking for a half hour. Only I couldn’t talk. I mean, we were having a conversation, but I couldn’t speak. Every time there was a lull in the conversation, my heart would speed up. What if I blurted out what I was thinking to fill the silence? What would you say? Which, I guess, is the question that consumes my thoughts. I’m a coward, this I know, but I just can’t say it when I don’t know what the answer is. You’d call me a scaredy cat, just because you know I’d be amused that you called me a form of a cat. And then there’s that moment, because there’s always a moment, when it’s on the tip of my tongue, and you look at me, and I think you know what I’m going to say, I mean, I’m sure you do, because you know me about as well, if not better, than I know me, and maybe you’re egging me on because you don’t want to say anything either, but then we’re just in a big mess of unsaid confessions. Am I misreading? Maybe that look is a plea to not say something so that no current status is compromised. And it’s not like I can handle this like how I normally handle these things, that is, to jump you and then we figure out all the complications later until we’re going down in flames after a (possibly not-so) valiant attempt. How can I do this? I can’t! I’ll choke up and get weird and girly. I refuse to initiate with a tech-no-lo-gi-cal romance. It has to be done in person, but I can’t. And what happens after, if anything? I’m probably one of the most jealous and stubborn people you’ll ever meet. And that works fine for now, and you always think you can overlook some flaw or abnormality when it comes to initiating these things, but then 3 months into it, you can’t stand it anymore. And there goes that, because you can’t stand how she gives you the third degree when you go out with someone unfamiliar. Unfamiliarity poses a threat, don’t you know. And then of course, there’s the hug. And I’ll be honest. It’s not so great. And you know how much I enjoy analyzing and obsessing over these things. So there’s another bullet in the “you’re wrong, he doesn’t” column. And this isn’t a rebound, I assure you. But is it an intermission? I’m weak, and with some well rehearsed words, I could fall. At some point, we will all fall. And that’s not fair to anyone. But what can I do? Be immature and spread rumors? So maybe one will get back to you and you can wonder why I couldn’t act my age and say something to you? I guess I’ll just sit and freak out, only I can’t call you about it this time.

There’s nothing profound about this. I have no deep analysis of this situation. Just scattered, grammatically incorrect thoughts.