It interesting having an audience. At least, one as small, and generally known, as the one I seem to have. It's weird, really, the nature of the journal, especially one online. Strangers, I don't mind reading my thoughts online at all. And for the most part, I don't mind those close to me reading my thoughts, which is why I, in general, speak freely here. But here recently, there's been things I've wanted to write on, to express my feelings on, but have been reluctant to put down in a public space. Which presents an interesting quandry. Is it right to have thoughts and feelings you want to keep from someone, for whatever reason, be it good or bad. Especially if this person is very, and truly dear to you. Of course, the thing I wish to comment on is of a negative nature. And even in the relative comfort, freedom, and anonymity of the blog format, I don't like to very openly express negative emotion, instead internalizing and ingesting it as one would a bitter medicine or slow poison. All because I know she reads this. But I need to get it out, out and in the open. And since I've already talked to her, maybe I can, and I think I will. And I've had a couple of days to think about it, so with time come temperance. I hope.
To catch up the one or two people who weren't at Phil's party to bear witness, Holly and I have reached a bit of an empass, a fork, a critical point. Holly, from time to time, gets into funks. Ruts. "Weird moods" she calls them. And she was in one Friday night. I may have been a bit selfish in talking to her. She didn't really want to go out at all, much less travel all the way to Huntersville from Greensboro. I told her that it was ok if she didn't want to go. But I don't know if I meant it. I didn't get to see her near as much as I wanted to over the holidays, and I'd had to watch my brother and his girlfriend being...disgustingly cute. For three days straight did I bear witness to this. So there's my mood and her mood going in. I had expected, accepted and anticipated her being a little cold shouldery, cut off and pulled away from me. It went a little farther than that, though. Which is where the whole mess came from. It seems we weren't on the same page. At all. I thought there was something mutually exclusive going on. It seems there wasn't. Not entirely at least. Those who were there know the details, and if you weren't there, I apologise, bit I'm not going to go into it. While I know there wasn't any kind of fooling around happening, there was someone who she snuggled up to, and it wasn't me. It was a married guy 10 years or so my senior. She was inside the whole time, I was outside. Mainly because I couldn't go inside. Couldn't go inside and see her there not with me. Some people might say I have no right to jealousy. In her eyes, we were not dating, or so it seems. But she's the girl I like. So of course I'm going to become jealous if she's with someone else. And even if I can control the expression and release of the emotion, it's still an ugly emotion and it was still being felt. And I still feel cheated, slighted. I know she wasn't altogether in her right mind. I know she was drunk. But that only goes so far in the realm of excuse and pardon. Mixed signals. Argh. But that whole night. For many hours. So many people kept coming up to me. Telling me how I didn't deserve that kind of treatment. Telling me how mad at her they were. How ready to jump up and tear her a new one they where. And every time, I came to her defense. And no one acted, not a one of them spoke, because they knew I didn't want them to. Because they knew that if it came down to it, I would physically fight to keep them from doing it. Chris equated it to a stand off in a dry western street at high noon. On the one side Chris, and everyone else behind, itching for their guns. And that's a lot of guns. And on the other side, me. The only thing between their wrath and her was me. And she had no knowledge of the whole mess. Like me standing outside her door, the others the angry peasant mob, torches and everything. But that's me. The Last White Knight. I still feel the way I feel. And it is love. As I explained as clear as I could, I fall in love so very easily. And always in a terrible and fantastic way. Never small. Meteor crashing into the earth on top of a train wreck, followed by a plane wreck on top of the meteor, and then the whole mess gets struck by lightning. And it takes a while to recover from that kind of blunt force emotion. If recover is the right word. Nothing I feel is small of subtle. My emotions tend towards large and loud and intense, sometimes to a disturbing level. But I have a mind, a very analytical mind. Or at least a part enough of my mind. I can turn inward and ask the questions and analyze the thoughts. Introspection. It's one of my oldest skills.
Which I would like to comment on. My friends. I love you all dearly. However, a lot of the advice you give, or thoughts you share I have thought or acknowledged or understood long before you say anything. However, I implore to keep telling me anyway. Because every once in a while, I need to hear it from someone else before it sticks. But anyway.
I still love her, because I still believe she deserves every bit of my love and patience. But I was still hurt. And it was an ancient, and wholly familar hurt. Which, sadly, is probably why I was able to take it as well as I did. I am, unfortunately, used to that particular hurt. Used to the feeling that I'd been cheated on. But at the same time, while I thought I was, in the moment it happened, I realised she didn't see us as an "us" but a me and her. And from that context, there wasn't an infidelity, as there was no relationship to be faithful to. At least objectively. Although Joe's situation is a little different. As he's married. It's a mess. A mess of miscommunication. I haved asked specifically whether or not we were dating. I had assumed that the progression of events denoted the relationship becoming exclusive. And I was wrong. It's not often that my instincts are wrong. But when they are, it's almost always in a romantic situation.
I want this to work. I know I can be good to her, good for her. And being good to and for someone else is good for me. She's beautiful. Tall, slender, playful eyes, and soft skin. Long legs that whisper to my hands. And this perfect toosh, the exact combination or firm and soft. A whimsical disarming smile. A sensuous alto, which so richly conveys any emotion, be it mischief, happiness, anger, sadness, passion. A very soft touch. Calming and stirring simultaneously. And through that shines her mind and heart and soul. Which lends a certain melancholy, a tragic, sad beauty. An almost fae sense of beauty; ethereal, otherworldly, enchanting. She's a roleplayer. She's into video games, anime, sci-fi, fantasy. She's not perfect. No one is, though. And, although I don't know if she knows that I know, or can accept that I know, I do know. I know what her "weird moods" are. I know where they come from. I know what they feel like. I know because I get them. I've fought and struggled against them for nearly ten years, and will for the rest of my life. I also know because I'm an empath. I feel what she feels, if only a little bit. And what I feel, well...if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck... Those walls she's got built up around her are high and thick. But I love her all the same.
Holly, if you read this before we talk again, pay attention. Read and know and understand. I do love you. You are dear to me. Your happiness is paramount to me. But what happened hurt. I let myself be open to that. It was my misunderstanding of the situation. To some extent. But even if I knew there was not an agreement of mutual exclusion, I would have still been hurt. It's a normal reaction when anyone, especially a guy, sees the girl they like, that they want to be with, choosing to be with someone else, especially when they're in the same place. And in the words of Billy Joel, I have been a fool for lesser things. In fact, listen to or read the lyrics to Billy Joel's song "For the Longest Time." That really sums it all up. Was I hurt? Yes. Will I get over it? Yes. I am getting over it. Maybe by tomorrow I will have gotten over it completely. I believe that you could be a supporting partner, a worthwhile companion, and an amazing lover. I see this in you, but I see also that you keep yourself bound. And you don't need to. Maybe some part of me are similar to other guys from your past. But I'm not those guys, no matter how similar I might seem. I am like no one else you've ever met. I won't hurt you. I am patient. I am strong. I can carry you though the rough times, and I can dance with you in the joyous times. I want to show you the better way. A way you've never been shown before. And I want to. More than anything in my life right now, I want to show you, and share with you that better way. I want you in my life. For better or worse, I want to share this life with you for as long as you or fate or God will allow.
Now. For the rest of you. Be nice. If you aren't nice, well, I quote for you Stevie Ray Vaughn. Chris. "Yeah I love my baby, she's long and lean. You mess with her, you'll see a man get mean."