Pathetic

Friends are both good and bad.  They are good in that a) we need some, even if it’s only one and b) they support us in our time of need; but they can be bad in that a) we look to them for advice and they are not professionals and b) they may have their own agendas.

The trouble is that, in spite of their advice to us, it may not actually be in our best, long-term (or, even short-term) interest to follow that advice.

Sure I ask for advice but my friends know that, really, all they can offer me is advice and that I will do my own thing, whatever.  If it coincides with their advice then that’s fine, if it doesn’t then that’s fine too, even if, secretly, when/if it all goes pear-shaped, they can gloat that ‘I told you so’.

And, as a friend to others, I can give advice but, if it’s not taken I understand.  In the end, no one can really see inside another’s head and the talk that’s made is only one side and, worse, may not be all of the one side.

And, so, he has talked to his friends.  As a result something that should have happened won’t.  I mean to say, I knew it wouldn’t happen anyway but now it most certainly won’t happen.  And this is because of his friends’ advice.  I know who they are even if I don’t know them, if you see what I mean.  I guess I will meet them soon.

The worst friends are gay friends.  They always think they know best.  But they almost certainly have another agenda – their own agenda which, in my past experience seems to be – we don’t want you to be as happy as us.  This is made worse by the fact that what most of them seek they rarely find and so they remain unhappy – whoever coined the word ‘gay’ for homosexuals was having some sort of laugh!

Everyone of them wants the ‘thing’ but won’t work at it to make it happen.  It just so fucking annoys me.  What the hell do they expect?

I will, when I meet them, be charming and polite and ‘like’ them, even if I don’t.  Of course, perhaps it’s not them……but I’m pretty sure it is.

Last night, after almost a week of spending each night together, we slept in our own homes.  This was good but bad.  I miss him.  I miss being able to snuggle up to him; to wake in the morning and kiss him and hold him.  It seemed to take me ages to get to sleep and I so wanted to be with him.  But, for once, I was strong in the evening too, which is good.

We spoke.  He asked when we would see each other.  I said I didn’t know but not tomorrow (that will be tonight as I post this as, his trip delayed by one day, he is away tonight).  He said he knew that (as it was obvious) – then he said ‘What about Thursday?  We could see each other on Thursday’.  I said OK.  Then he said that he had to be home Thursday to pick up the dog and AfL will be coming on Friday.  He then said that, perhaps, we could go out for a beer or a pizza on Friday as well (you see what I mean about wanting to see me every day?).  I said that we would see, but that yes, that seemed fine.

I am holding back.  I am frightened.

I am pathetic.

Hold my hand, I will take you there.

There’s a place for us,
A time and place for us.
Hold my hand and we’re halfway there
Hold my hand and I’ll take you there,
Somehow, someday, somewhere.

West Side Story – Somewhere

[Written 27th October]

We text.  I had waited and he texted first.  I wasn’t sure….after last night.  OK, so this morning was the same but, you know…..

The texts were the same.  It is the same as if the conversation had never happened.

I don’t know what he wants from me.

I think I know exactly what he wants from me.

I am certain I am right with at least one of those statements.

Everything is the new normal.

I shall not call.  I will wait for his call.  He wants the same, doesn’t he?  He feels the same, doesn’t he?  Even if he says he is not sure.

Or is this like the chat?  Say one thing, think another.  Reality blurred by the fact the chat or the text is, somewhat, impersonal.  And yet, even the chats seemed different, before I met him, before he came over to kiss me (which, I will remind you, he said he never did with other men), before F.

There was a BF.  Now there is ATN (After That Night), the night that almost never happened.  He had, he said, been phoned by another friend and may have gone there but told the friend that he had this guy coming round but would cancel it if it was necessary.  But, he didn’t cancel.  And now we are here, ATN.

It reminds me of the time V & I first met and how that should never have been.  But it did happen and, because of that event, over 21 years ago, I am here, in this place, at this time, A   T   N

I hate Italian men……except him, of course.  And some others who are friends.  But other than those exceptions, I hate them all.  Even him.  It’s not that I hate them, I hate the way they think…and what they do….

Other than that, they’re fine.  If only they weren’t so screwed up.  If only I wasn’t so screwed up.  I only I could see properly.

He complained that it was going too fast but later said that, if he didn’t want to see me, he would have said.  He would have said no.  But he never did say no.  He kept asking at first and then, if I asked, he said yes.

So, he wants to see me every day but doesn’t want it to go too fast.  See, this is the kind of mixed up crap that I don’t get.  I have mentioned before (some time ago and, again with apologies to The Store Manager) that I think I may have a mild form of autism.  This is based on the fact that I do find relationships (this includes friendships) difficult to get.  It’s like I miss some signals.  But, tell me, what signals am I missing here?  The signals are mixed.

I told him I need help with this but, to be honest (and this time apologies to the ladies who read this), this is almost like being with a woman.  I am supposed to guess what he is thinking?  I am supposed to respond in the ‘right’ way without knowing what the question I am responding to is in the first place?

All too fucking difficult.

And, yet, I am sure that he wants me to continue, wants us to continue.  Wants it to be the ‘real’ thing.

Yes, I’m sure.

I don’t understand why he won’t hold my hand.  I will take him there.  Of that, he can be sure.