The episodic heart. The running dialogues in my mind, their words . . . they change. They vary from pain to understanding to my own admittance of fault.
That evening A stated, “love and drama go hand in hand.” I know the guest was a female. My intuition says she arrived, and most likely arrives most Thursdays (the one day I historically have not been here) and to her dismay, he rushed down, wouldn’t allow her up. Women are not stupid. I am sure she understood the reason. But, perhaps he lied. Said his parents were in town. They in truth come tomorrow.
He looked at me with eyes covered in a film of red. Whatever happened was not easy. He was destroyed. “Drama and love go hand in hand.” He proceeded to tell me I am not like my gender, and that i have things to learn about love. To watch ‘Valentine’s Day.’ The irony. I sat quiet, same half smile that I wore upon his arrival. I offered nothing. My insides in opposition, screamed with fury. I wondered how this was getting turned around on me. I imagined him now falling into a lustful, intimate, emotional relationship with whoever came below. I was wrong as he asked me to go away for Fourth of July . . . a trip like Memorial Day that had been preplanned and was now ripe for the taking.
I still have not confronted him. The few friends I’ve told, perplexed. My mind has traveled to so many places and often, feels too logical, too cold. I will explain my perspective later. But, the summarized version is our relationship lacked something weeks ago, that is the problem. The lack of sex, of intimacy, and the other females all go hand in hand. I will not fall and/or stay in a relationship without the first two, and the first two cannot exist with the last. So, if the relationship grows, if we remove our walls, then the rest is relevant. Until then the countries my mind will visit . . . and perhaps the other men I will let in.