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I am in such turmoil right now.
To begin with, I went back to St. Louis two weeks after I left. Wes's sister and her family went to Disney World for a week and he invited me to housesit with him. No, I invited myself actually.
I wanted to see him again because I had missed him so much the week after I got back from St. Louis… I asked myself, if I went again, would it be harder to leave a second time? To be melodramatic I thought yes.
And yes, it was hard.
It’s been a week since I left again, and I still miss him terribly. I don’t know what happened... I thought I had control over my emotions, but somewhere in the events of that second week in St. Louis, I lost a good deal of that control. I can honestly say that I am falling in love with him, now. I might not truly love him yet, but I can see myself there. Somehow, I’ve come to care way too much. Oh God, I miss him.
Of course we had sex. I miss him holding me.
And again, I keep remembering that last night, when we had simply just talked and I finally knew for sure how he felt about our relationship. One of my biggest questions had finally been answered, and a part of me quit searching and testing him for answers. But knowing his answer... it was so bittersweet. It was like knowing that if circumstances had been different, we might have had something incredibly good... but circumstances weren’t different, and so we’ll never get the chance to find out. A bitter pill to swallow, definitely.
I wanted to be so good for him. I wanted to make him need me. I wanted to be the one for him. I still do.
Would that mean that I do love him then? I had been unwilling to see the practical reasons behind why our relationship had a good chance of failing, until he laid it out for me that last night and I finally understood. Am I unwilling now to see that I love him?
No. I can’t. I keep saying the words over and over in my head like a litany that I hope will become true if only I hear it said out loud, but I can’t say with certainty that I love him yet. I think I’m afraid to take that final step, because I know he doesn’t love me. “Care for very much,” but not love.
But God how I want him to.
It won’t come about though, will it? He and I both have our separate lives. I with at least two more years of college in San Diego, he with his ambitions in Atlanta.
Atlanta! Why Atlanta? God I was furious when I heard that. Furious at myself for hoping that I meant enough to him that he would come out here, furious at him for not caring enough... furious at life’s timing... that which has thrown us together when he’s not willing to rationalize himself into a relationship with a pitifully young girl who’s experienced so little in life while that same girl is desperately wishing that just this once, he’d be irrational and not try to rationalize anything...
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