Rough

6 05 2009

We are trying to take things slowly, but it is proving impossible when we live 10 feet away from each other and like each other as much as we do.   Even storms blow through faster than I can forgive myself.  Or maybe its because we’re always onto something new and exciting and amazing at speeds faster than I can process…

 We spoke while I waited for my flight to depart from Miami.  He spoke sweetly to me, and I felt horribly undeserving.  I told him I wasn’t the best behaved this weekend.  He was silent.  I wanted to tell him that I met someone else. That I kissed this person, and that I was only sorry about the part where my recklessness violated his trust, his friendship, my word.  He remained silent.  He did not ask, so I didn’t tell him of my wrongs.  I tried to tell him not to wait up, that I’d be too dirty to crawl into bed next to him.  But he wanted to wake up next to me.  

I got home at 2am, deciding to sleep in the living room so i could avoid Jake till I was less exhausted and dirty.  My other roomate was already asleep on the couch.   I had no choice but to enter my bedroom.  Jake was asleep in my bed.  I didn’t want to have to tell him the truth, but he was there in my bed, and deserved full-disclosure before he had the chance to greet me with a hug and kiss or skillet to the head.  He stirred a little, and called me to bed.  I sat next to him and asked him why he hadn’t asked what terrible things I’d done.  I laid out my confession and he brushed it aside, burdened by sleep.  I laid down beside him, careful not to touch him.  I knew the information was sinking  in by the minute.  We spoke our thoughts out loud.  He asked me questions and I gave him answers that didn’t sit easy for either of us.  We didn’t kiss or touch, except hold hands.  I was lucky he didn’t storm away from me at all.  He took things far better than I would have, and it made me realize that I cared about him more than he cared for me. Ironic. Upon waking the next morning, he kissed my shoulder.  Maybe he had forgotten what a horrible person I was.  We got ready for work in a hurry, oversleeping after talking all night.  We held hands and spoke without awkwardness on the way to work.  I dropped him off, and as I expected, he did not kiss me good bye as usual.  I drove away from him with tears welling in my eyes and a sharp nauseating pain. 

The day after I came back from Miami, we both were planning and trying to hide from each other.  I wanted to sneak in from work and not have to see his face, have to be reminded of how I hurt him.  I asked our roomate if Jake was home, and I was relieved to find out he was away.  At the same time, i didn’t want Jake to think I was avoiding him because of anything his fault.  For my own, I was afraid he’d be angrier than when I first admitted my wrongs. 

When I came home from dinner, his door was closed, and I looked at it longingly.  I went into my room, exchanging my bags for my bathtowel.  I opened my door and he was in the hall.  He asked me how I was doing, and I said it was rough.  He nodded mechanically in agreement.  I took my shower and when I came out, the light behind his door was off.  I stood in my doorway looking at the closed, dark door.  Wishing I were inside, cuddled next to him.  Instead, I felt really sad.  Finally I closed my door, making the signature sound signaling that the bathroom we all share is now free.  I quickly put on my pjs and opened my door, in case he’d ever open his, in case he’d ever want to stop by and say hello.  As I swung my door open, he was in the hall.  I was surprised to see him, spending all day at work thinking of ways to politely avoid him, and then spending all evening at home wishing I could be next to him.  I asked him if he was going to bed.  Me too.  I asked him where he was sleeping tonight, and he invited me to his room.  “Am I allowed to?”  I had planned on grounding myself in my room, miserably thinking of the wrongs I’d done.  I couldn’t believe he wanted to be near me so soon.

I laid down beside him, unsure of how he’d receive me.  He scooped me into his arms and held me.  We talked. We were both feeling better than last night or the morning.  It was amazing how we could talk about everything with ease and honesty and even laughter.  I wished I could forgive myself as easy as he seemed to.

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