Love hazard, At one's peril

In the morning, early early morning. I found you had slept on your back, I had fallen asleep on your chest but waking up finding you not near. That was the way I always wanted, to be near, to be sleeping on your chest, hearing you breathing. Sometimes you spooned me. I sometimes wondered if you were growing on me. I put that thought aside. I couldn’t afford to fall.

I was watching a movie, and in the middle of it, I thought of you, and how we tried to watch a movie and you were so turned on that we had to leave early to fuck.

I dreamed of you saying this to me – while I was in a writing delirium, you said, “go ahead and fall for me. I love you.” Then I realized even what you said to me, was a dream.

I couldn't believe that you could love someone in a romantic way. I felt that emptiness, the way you would never talk about anything, the way you wanted me to just hold you, after we had sex, no talking, just staring into the darkness. all just a physical thing. I don’t believe that you could love me.

Perhaps we were each other’s physical thing. 

But at an off chance, that I might feel the true passion, what do you, readers, suggest me do then? I never wanted to find out. There had always been two sides of me. One good, one confused; one calculated, rational; one passionate, reckless. One love with justification, one love with abandon.

We called each other “Baby”. I had never felt this content with anyone who shared so little with me. But with you it worked.  I was terrible with this, before, to not let my emotions got into the way,  And I tried very hard, tried to stay cool, be rational and tried to not let my emotions run wild.  I am older. I am therefore better at controlling my emotions. Years ago, one of my first guys who I felt for taught me to compartmentalize things. He was a spy. He did it well. I learned to love, and to fuck are two different things. I closed my heart out whenever I felt that I could love someone. I am a typical abused child. I can only love someone who I am not involved with physically. But I want to change that pattern.

It is now new year’s eve. Of course I won’t be hearing from you. Of course I would not know what you’d be doing. We would not going to be standing under the same mistletoe. I missed kissing you. But you wouldn't hear me saying that. It had always been like that. I wrote what I felt on this blog, on an off chance you might read it and know how I felt. I would not talk about these things with you. Neither would you. You would not respond.

Or not, until then. We will figure out what this is, along the way.

3 months, and counting...