An exceptional day

Yesterday started out normally enough - that is to say, as unexceptional as any other.

Well, maybe not entirely routine. I'm a pretty romantic guy, on occasion. Sometimes a lot, sometimes not so much, but (I think) generally so. Certainly where B is concerned, I seem to be a little more so inclined even though too much of it bothers her. Anyway, Monday night was a little tough - not being with her, knowing she was out with bf, just.. hard. True, I did go out with a friend, but having a consolation prize isn't quite the same as having the grand prize, is it?

Anyway, my thoughts got a little carried away, I guess, and I wrote her an offline message. In my message I reiterated something I've said to her a few times before, sort of a metaphorical invitation. I've had in my head, for quite some time, a vision of me holding out my hand to her, asking her to take it and to join me on a journey of discovery. Both of us have talked many, many times about finding out what else, what all this life has to offer. Neither of us has been particularly happy with our travels so far and with so many similarities between us and so many shared ideas and visions, it just seems like together we'd be able to go further, see and discover so much more.

I guess it's obvious she hasn't yet put her hand out to me, or I'd be writing this as my last entry. Still, I hope. I'm hopeful. I'm not a patient guy (instant gratification isn't fast enough!), but for her, I'll wait. I intend to take some "short road trips" in life, but I can hold off on the world tour for now. There's many things I need to do in preparation anyway.

At least she knows that I still have her ticket. It has no expiration date.

Moving on.

She called me yesterday, mid morning. That's reason enough to be happy, but it gets way better. She says "I have time to talk". Might seem insignificant to anyone else, but to me it means a lot. For whatever reason, she was free to talk on the phone, something she can usually only do in short chunks. I asked how long, she said "about an hour". Awesome! She calls. We talk. And talk. And talk.

There were periods and topics during which the conversation was a little strained. But overwhelmingly it was wonderful. It was like having one of our long lost evening or weekend talks again. We talked about many things, got caught up on some current events in our lives and just generally spent some time together, free and easy. It was nice beyond description.

It felt good, great, wonderful. It felt -right-. The memory of all the times we've spent together on the phone came rushing back, bringing all the feelings of warmth and comfort and love back, as though we still had those times every week. It was amazing in that my sphere of consciousness consisted solely of her voice, her image, all of the "her" that I have in my head and heart, and me, and the us of it. I was barely aware of anything else around me.

Her hour turned into two.

If nothing else, I'm consistent. Eventually I brought the talk around to her and bf and their V-day night. It was fine actually, until either I pushed too far or my reaction hit her wrong. And then she shut down. Like always, I knew immediately just by the change in her voice. And within 3 or 4 minutes, she ended the call. I tried and tried to smoothe it over, to tell her that she didn't need to end it, that we'd work through and past it, but to no avail.

Just to make things worse, turns out she could have talked for another hour and a half. Fuck. She pointed out that we did have two good hours - yes, we did, and they were great and I wouldn't have missed them for anything. But we could have had another 90 minutes. Fuck.

We did IM much of the rest of the day, and we did talk again a couple of times briefly and then again before she left work. The "goodness" of the conversation and connection were still mostly there throughout the day and yesterday will go down as one of my favorite days in a long time. But I still worry that every time I shut her down that I've put one more brick into the wall, that it'll be that much harder for her to get, be and stay open and close and connected with me the next time.

I want her, so much, and she knows it. Sometimes I wonder if that scares her or pushes her away. She wants me, I'm sure of it, although she won't say it anymore and probably won't even allow herself to think it anymore.

If I had one chance to see the future - any part of the future, I wouldn't want to know when I'm gonna die or what tomorrow's stock prices are gonna be or this weekend's winning lottery numbers.

I'd just want to know if she'll ever tell me to come be with her.