I saw two little girls today. They ran into the obviously familiar neighborhood restaurant and hugged the old man, the littlest one announcing proudly, this is my best friend, squeezing tightly the hand of the other. Introductions were made and I continued watching the pair navigate their world. A world where you can hold your best friend’s hand in public, every greeting is a hug, and even if you drop your cookie and cry, the second you realize you can just get another one, the pain of loss is gone and there is reason to smile again.
I couldn’t sleep the other night and so I wrote him. I thought it cowardly to write but then remembered history, and the beauty in letters, so I gave him my heart in pen. I told him I wanted more. I told him of my affinity for the seemingly impractical. I told him everything. To date his response has been that he hasn’t had time to respond.
He did say he loved me. For who I am, the dreamer. He did say I balanced him. He did not say, let’s be together. He didn’t say he was willing to make it work. I realize I am impulsive, instinctive, impatient, and tend to over simplify the complex. I also realize he is none of those. So, I try to tell myself be patient, Jess. He loves you, let that be enough until he responds. But the little girl in me just wants the simple life. Don’t over think it. Just hold my hand and tell me we’re best friends.
I guess every girl wants that; to be chosen, absolutely. Without question, or hesitation, be sure of me. I try to be sympathetic to the fact that even though he might be, the logistics could be holding him…why doesn’t everyone disregard reason? *sigh* (I don’t mean this, we need varying types of all believers, even non)
“I love love. I don’t care what it does to me” on repeat. Right about now I want to retreat. I want to pull out of my truth, say nevermind, and just play the friendship game another few years. But then again, I don’t. I am staying in this gross discomfort and I loathe it. I feel alone. I feel like I’m by myself at the edge of a cliff too dry to cry. I feel uncomfortable but I’m sitting in it. It wont kill me. I feel a knot in my throat, will my heart break?