Brains!

I pass the test. I met him with frazzled feelings, which developed within the twenty minutes of warning I had. It was awkward. I found myself retreating for something solid, some nook to park myself, and brace myself and hide myself, the way I do when I am overcome with shyness. I found my bed behind me; sitting cross-legged I wrapped my hand around the circle bars at the end of my bed. I told him random things, things that didn’t matter, things to make sure I didn’t talk about anything I wasn’t ready to say, things I didn’t want to regret later. In this way that fighting impulse to keep me driving towards that un-named reason for doing this all in the fist place emerged and stood there like ghost. Then it was time to leave, I was rushing off to dinner, off to my sisters, the moons that would soon rise above the concrete to show me. We hugged goodbye, and melted in to each other. I fought then, hard with my inner chemicals, which were blooming all over my body. My eyes grew wet anyways. And for fear of being noticed, I strangely rested my head in his chest. I pushed him away, saying, “I’m getting your shirt wet again”. I was feeling sickly about the way his sighing and breathing in my hair felt so familiar, and so good. After that I scrambled to hang out with him, just to see. To see what the heck I was going to do. How easily the feeling of wanting to be with him again, the way we had for two years, not even as friends not even in a relationship, but just next to each other. When we finally did, I went cheerfully, and then realized as I was talking and smiling and feeling genuinely good all of a sudden. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted, but then I found out I was prepared to go on the way I had made it. Not with him. The only strong feeling I had was how much I wanted to be his friend so deeply. He’s not ready I discovered. It was too much for him still; three weeks had not been enough, even though for me it was. Now I know I am ready to go on, ready to handle days on my own, but being around him brings back that wanting feeling again, and hugging him makes it even worse. But I can stagger away still strong with that unnamed conviction. Maybe eventually it will wither away completely. But I was rushing him, and now I am away for an unknown length of time, and who knows. I just know that I am not dying inside the way I was for months, and that I was mourning that whole time. But now I have fond remembrances, sad feelings the way you do when something has come and gone.