August 18, 2002
Should've Been
Perhaps I should speak of school. Of how I already feel like elusive bohemian roommate. Of how girl next door loves Incubus. Of how thrilled I am to painstakingly decorate my notebooks and dream of the notes that should soon fill them. Of how I am comfortable in the fact that I already have friends there, and friends at home, and am not at all concerned with whatever sort of strange impression I might make on my dorm mates. Of how the showers are small and my hips wide. Of how my bare walls scream for my Star Wars poster. Of how classes start on Tuesday, and I have but one to occupy me that day.
But I can't.
I am thinking and feeling and seeing and remembering only one thing right now.
Sitting Indian style in the employee cafeteria. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere on the table before me, glasses perched inelegantly on my nose. There is a slight pressure on my shoulders, someone has come up behind me and squeezed them.
"Hello, little one."
I look up. And wish that I were not at work so I could throw my arms around his neck, kiss him quickly, then drag him to his bed for a nap and other less restful pursuits.
I wonder, when will I be given the chance to tell him that I love him? I can't pretend like I'm just falling for him. I've already fucking fell. I'm currently down here constructing a lean-to of poetic sentiment and photographs, seeing as it'll likely be a while before I again see the sun. If ever.
I spoke loudly today to Liz, but perhaps for my own benefit.
"Nobody loves you." She laughs, taking a bite of her cookie.
"Naturally."
"No, your boyfriend loves you."
I am keenly aware of the presence of his two friends, and mine, Steve and Josh, just behind us.
"No, he doesn't. And he shouldn't. He barely knows me."
Is it true? Why am I always lying to myself? Don't I want him to love me?
But wouldn't I also want to know why?
I'd let him go for school, you know. I'd hang on to him for as long as he'd let me, but he'd get tired of coming to see me, he'd stop signing online at strategic times just to say hello, he'd make excuses why he wasn't calling... and I'd let it happen. I'd let it happen because becoming something for myself is more important than being with someone amazing.
It is.
It just really fucking sucks to admit it. Because my life would be empty without someone else, and I'm beginning to think it would be empty without him. I'm not so sure anyone else could so aptly fit the place he has snuck so expertly into.
At the same time, I owe it to myself, and everyone, to do this. I want it. This is my dream. I can't have everything.
But right now I choose this.
And trying my damndest to choose him, too.
The problem is, he has to try, as well.
And I can't make him do anything he isn't already willing to do.
How long will he be willing?
I love it when he calls me 'little one.'
He likes kids and puppies.
I can't let that kind of man go, you know?
astera at 12:37 a.m.