Ryann Reflections

A glimpse into the life of one anti-social stripper nerd.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

return of the Brat

I need to write my way out of my head. My thoughts are spiraling around emotions too fast to process. I’m still raw. I like being emotionally present. I like being vulnerable, but it’s not easy.

I had lunch today with the Brat. It’s the first time we’ve really had an honest conversation in almost a year. We really fucked that one up. I want to say “he was an ass, and I don’t want that in my life”. I want to say “what was there is gone and I’m glad” but I can’t.

I still care. My heart is still there, as it always has been. I’m reflecting on OUR mistakes. I fucked up. He fucked up. Timing was a bitch, and communication suffered. I was a disaster last year, and totally unavailable for what we were starting. It should have been something. It was something. It was real, but became shrouded in silence and assumption. It was friendship, but became lost in fear. It was beautiful, but was sacrificed to circumstance.

I watch him from from across the table, defensive yet determined. He wants to fix the friendship. I'm wrapped in sadness. I’m sad for what we lost, for the pain I feel, but mostly I’m sad for what we could have shared. I can still taste it.

I watch him play ball with a puppy as we sit and talk with an old friend. I stare out at the water, marveling at the exquisite view. The colours of the water shimmer the reflection of the sky, but deeper and stronger. There is peace here. I love it.

I have hope for the friendship.

We walk... I close my eyes and feel his energy play in mine. I feel him near me. I catch my breath as I’m thrust into awareness; the sexual tension is still there. Dammit!! The conversation flows naturally into ambitions, plans, travel, and academia… school… work… Present romantic situations are not discussed, hinted at, nor acknowledged. I need today to be about me. I need to feel that I am special, that he missed me, and that the relationship we share is unique, valuable, and real. I do.

I rest my head on his shoulder and allow myself to relax under his hand. His energy is warm and caring. I’m torn between the false preservation of defensiveness and the desire to just be open. I like the feel of him beside me. I like his hand stroking my hair. I like the familiar flirtation. I like knowing this moment is special. It’s a holy moment between two souls struggling with mistakes and desires. I want to salvage the friendship. I know it’s real. I want to wrap his energy around mine and make things right. I want him to kiss me, but I'm trying not to think about that. I’m trying so hard to break the cycle. Denying the feelings never seems to effectively eliminate the pain. I don’t want to be the other woman anymore.

It’s been a beautiful afternoon, and I will cherish it.

I don’t really know what to do tomorrow. I don’t know what path our friendship will take but I’m just going to be honest in every moment as it comes, as best I can

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