Had the absolute best, best, BEST time with AtH last night. I mean, one of the best datesever. It was just dinner and convo, but gah, theres just this whole chemical reaction that happens when Im close to him. I hadnt seen him in a long time. Between my travel and his projects, and both of our coolings off (at least I was trying to cool off so as to not appear too ga-ga over him), I think it had been several weeks.
So I was trying to be very buddy-buddy with him when we ran into each other the day before yesterday, and very nonchalant about going to dinner with him last night. But when he started in on the you look so pretty tonight and the you should meet me in Montreal for the weekend after your trip to New York the first week of June and the I will romance you like crazy if you join me it will be so much fun!
well. What was I supposed to do with that?!
Of course! Melt. I melted right into his arms last night. We kissed. For reals. For the very first time. It was hands-down ranked in the top three of All Time Kissing Sessions in my LIFE. It was dreamy and delicious and incredibly chemical. You know? Sparks. Real live sparks. Not fakey, booty call bullshit. I am crazy for AtH.
So when he called first thing this morning, before I even left for work, I was honestly thinking that he was calling to tell me how much fun he had last night and how hed like to go out again this week.
I was wrong.
He was calling to tell me that he hadnt slept because he was thinking about how wrong-wrong-wrong the whole thing was, and how hes not supposed to be getting into a relationship, and how he cant give me what I want (Ive told him all about wanting someone serious in my life) for at least 3 years (huh?). Said that we cant go on getting all romancey and kissy face because going any further would only hurt, and he doesnt want to do that. Said that he will keep the memory of that kiss in his mind forever because it was so fantastic, but he doesnt want to get my hopes up because he just cant. Not yet. Not right now. Hell, he even confessed that his divorce hasnt been finalized (again, huh?). He apologized over and over and over. Said he still wants to hang with me and go to dinner and stuff, but no more drinking a little too much like last night because he has trouble controlling his inhibitions with me.
And I? Well, I didnt quite know what to say. So I really didnt say much of anything. But I wrote this note, and I think I will send it tonight:
(note: we call each other Nabeas in neighbor)
Dearest Nabe,
I was taken off guard by our conversation this morning, but I know I shouldnt have been so surprised. Even though I cant relate to the whole marriage/divorce/kid thing, I know better than to try to start something with you. I should be the one to apologize, not you. Im sorry.
I know there are bigger things to get upset and cry and be angry about, but sometimes I just cant help but be dumbfounded at how unfucking fair life can be in terms of love.
Yet I consider myself lucky. Lucky to still have you as a nabe. Hopefully lucky enough to still have you as a friend. Please dont go away, Nabe. Maybe no more getting drunk and kissing, but maybe coffee again like the good old days?
Your Nabe.
I dont know. Whats the use anyway?
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