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.