Move along now,

it's too soon to say much, but it's a strange time.

she moved away two days ago, and there is going to be not a word shared between us. for reasons:
+ i would not be able to move on, or, more accurately for this kind of feeling, i would not be able to think less often about it, i would not be able to forget.
+ and i don't want to provide, at a distance, as a friend, what she may like or want - a respect, understanding, care, intimacy and an affection - when those are the things she should be taking and finding completely in her own love; it's not my place, and it would leave me drained over again. i would like to give those things as a friend, to the level a friend does, but my feelings go deeper than that, and so friendship is too hard for me when she remains in love elsewhere.

but it's a strange time now, because she is gone, and in my realistic view, forever. (i think her feelings could never bring her back, for the situation between us would hold this strangeness and unbalance, despite a willingness for there not to be. plus, i don't know how romantically radical a person she is, and i see her more able to find happiness and comfort in where she finds herself, which, for someone like her, shouldn't be too hard.)

having presented my heart, demonstrated and said, and been the friend, there's a very real feeling that i wouldn't be comfortable welcoming her interest again. i feel i've given everything i can to her, been everything i can while being true to myself and my feelings. this experience of having given that, and it be not enough, and being well left alone, would doubtlessly leave a burdening feeling in me of inadequacy and second-best were she to turn around. and nobody wants the job of cheering up a sad-sack...
...unless they really do like them. so, i guess, despite it all, that could be a positive start.

my thoughts don't consider this chance/future much at present, as said, it's all so seemingly distant in time and likelihood. her mind is on her current situation, and rightly so.. too long i feel i've been tresspassing there. my thoughts now (when not in a tired daze of the last few days) are more on getting a bearing on where i am here in life, in being individual, in being aside from the dreams. and (to hint to the other dimension to this) about...

...what are these feelings of mine for others? it's a different thing. and what to do? and thinking we're maybe having more fun than we ought. at least there's an honesty. (this last part should hold meaning for a few... and that's intended for now.)

i'd probably like to live life without that boring, overwhelming L-word for a while (tired of it) - the one i do consider/feel usually to be so much a shared-life-goal. how about i also try not to hurt anyone in the meantime - 'keep up the honesty' is the personal motto here (and not with an agenda-driven selection of the truth, but with the whole intention-emotional-situation-shebang).

enough rambling for now, i think.

There's nothing to see here...

let's laugh together

i'm not ignorant of the humour that can be drawn from the clash between the earnest portrayal of my emotions and the time periods involved. doesn't stop me believing them. as an outsider, though, i would be dismissing me as oversensitive and not experienced enough to be claiming such things as love with any sympathy. and to whose who agree: fuck you.

all the love stories

it's a tricky situation. the love as i call it is not fading or passing, it's dying. falling apart, possibly irrecoverably. i can see that what will remain much longer is simple, straight-out attraction and a longing for a more innocent past. but the love part, the completeness of it, is what's crumbling. there's only so long you can bear your vulnerabilities and desires, as an embarrassing, shameful need rather than attempt at something, and have them flap about pathetically like a fish drowning on land while a small audience, yourself included, looks on, unwilling or unable to say a word.

and there's bursts of spiteful anger - but out of jealousy and self-pity? maybe, in part. anger forged in resentment possibly more of my own foolishness than at her.

the cause of this breaking of the feeling of my love for her as pure and true, while it instead lingers as desire, can be simplified as a perceived emptiness in her, or a professional concealment. in memory, even, when we were together, i recall fearing my desire outweighed hers - the sense that i know i desired her greatly, while i could feel ignored or unwanted even in her company. not unwanted as in wishing to be rid of, but from an indifference. and then, at the end, it was so so easy for her; there was no show of emotion other than a social awkwardness. when i broke down in sorrow and desperation at that time, wanting a chance to fix what i didn't know or see as broken, there was no emotional reaction, not seen, not shown; again, just that look of awkwardness and kind pity.

that awkwardness and kind pity has happened over more than once since then, at times when i failed to be quiet. but she's okay, she's always okay.

i have questions that need answering, when she has time away from an overloading of practical-based stress, i'll ask.

my love (yes it is/was that) of her, of us, was driven on a feeling of a connection, but it's dying when that connection is rewritten as a fantasy and, very significantly, we were never together as i felt we were. if i'm wrong about being wrong, and there was a closeness, then what has happened to allow her this simplicity, this blasé manner of easy friendship, i can't imagine
- and it scars our heart, if that exists anymore - a heart of the kind an arrow goes through, etched into the bark of a tree you once kissed under.

turning, walking away, looking back, looking back, "Good God she's beautiful... ... ... How can I be so wrong?"

(i hate this drama. my desires, my romanticism, breathe life in lightly considered freedom. when my behaviour is masked and restrained, when my actions are self-judged on appropriateness and being steady not to cross a flirting line or become sadly cloying, behaviour and mood together is stilted. and she doesn't know the complication.)