What’s going on? What’s happening to me? What am I doing?
I should be mourning. I should feel sad, angry and frustrated. I should be crying. Maybe I should read more often about coping methods, about buddhistic psychology. I should do all of these things so that I could get over the recent loss and get back to being and feeling normal. Instead I am going crazy over you, thoughts running wild in my head.
I’m impatient, don’t want to wait until the 26th when you will come here. Even though we agreed to leave whatever we have to discuss for that Friday in about 2 weeks time, instead of doing it via email, I still kind of hope to get a quick note from you, a short message to say hi and check in on me. Whenever you should have got home from work, I start – almost frantically – checking my mails every so often and get madly disappointed when there’s nothing from you in my inbox.
I’m so impatient that I can’t even wait for the weekend to hear your voice again when we will play that online game together. Each day is just crawling past me. I feel so bored, yet unmotivated to do anything. All I can do is paint mental pictures of you coming here, of us having that conversation. It continues with me having to cry and you taking me gently in your arms, holding me. And then you’re confessing your true feelings. They’ve been there all along. I can hear you say it, just the same way you did a while ago during that game: “Wanna cuddle?” Yes, I do. We’re lying down on the couch. I can rest my head on your chest, your arms tightly around me, one hand caressing my arm, while I gently touch your stomach, your chest. That’s it. We know the rules. We won’t do more than that.
But I have to confess my other fantasy: I also imagine us having an affair from that point on. You’ll have 2 more weeks off after that weekend, so I picture you renting a hotel room nearby to stay there. We’d meet up whenever I don’t have to work and while H is at work himself. We talk; we laugh; we cuddle; we make love one day; we have wild passionate sex the other.
Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? Is this normal? I thought I was over you, more or less. At least I thought to have gained some control. Now it feels so much worse, but at the same time so much better. I know I did the right thing asking you to talk to me one on one. It feels like we’re heading towards a deeper form of relationship or friendship. Somehow I am even more convinced now that you do have feelings for me, even though realistically I still believe that they are nothing more than friendly feelings. Does that make any sense? Gee, I don’t know what I am saying, how I can express what I am feeling.
It’s like I am heading towards that big conclusion of whatever this is here. I don’t fear the outcome. I am positive that it’s going to be good, one way or the other, no matter what you actually feel for me. I need to talk to you, be honest, get your feedback and yes, I do want to be held in your arms even if it’s just for a few seconds. I am yearning so much to see you again, talk to you. Until then, I am a complete mess it seems.