Sorry for not blogging in awhile. Lately I’ve been very reclusive. Not that I’m much of a socialite anyway, but, well, some of you may recall my ranting about dating. I’m sick of dating. I hate dating. And yet, Scarlet the Spy suggested I turn it into a segment for Apt613 – and I wanted to, I really did, even if it was just fictionalized, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. I’ve been too preoccupied.
Some of you may have recall that I’ve been gushing about this woman that I’m enamoured with. Someone whom I adore so much that it hurts – and I mean “hurts.” It got to the point that I thought I’d have a panic attack if I didn’t find the words to tell her how I feel. So I took some time to write her a poem, and yesterday I read it to her, and now she knows.
When I finished the poem, she didn’t know what to say. I expected that – for the past two months I’ve been careful to guard these very feelings from her. Why was I torturing myself? I guess I didn’t want to come on too strong. But, of course, with the crush getting bigger and bigger each day, it became unbearable. I even found myself unwillingly dreaming about her. One night she told me she was really ill, and I had nightmares about it.
I told her I didn’t expect her to say anything. I just want to see her more. She said “we’ll work on it.” So I gave her the two pages I read her. She said she’d read it over. She said “thank you” and gave me a hug. It felt very good to hold her. You know, before this moment we’d never actually touched? Anyway, she was very sweet about the whole thing. I had hoped she would be.
I have not spoken to her since last night. I don’t want to pressure her. I want to give her time and space to think about it. I’m just glad she didn’t hate me for putting her on the spot like that, and for listening. It felt so good to get that off my chest. Now I feel lighter than air.
I don’t know what will happen, but I will say that if things don’t work out, I’ll probably always be her biggest fan. She is probably one of the most talented writers I know, and I feel lucky to even have met her at all.
Some of you may have recall that I’ve been gushing about this woman that I’m enamoured with. Someone whom I adore so much that it hurts – and I mean “hurts.” It got to the point that I thought I’d have a panic attack if I didn’t find the words to tell her how I feel. So I took some time to write her a poem, and yesterday I read it to her, and now she knows.
When I finished the poem, she didn’t know what to say. I expected that – for the past two months I’ve been careful to guard these very feelings from her. Why was I torturing myself? I guess I didn’t want to come on too strong. But, of course, with the crush getting bigger and bigger each day, it became unbearable. I even found myself unwillingly dreaming about her. One night she told me she was really ill, and I had nightmares about it.
I told her I didn’t expect her to say anything. I just want to see her more. She said “we’ll work on it.” So I gave her the two pages I read her. She said she’d read it over. She said “thank you” and gave me a hug. It felt very good to hold her. You know, before this moment we’d never actually touched? Anyway, she was very sweet about the whole thing. I had hoped she would be.
I have not spoken to her since last night. I don’t want to pressure her. I want to give her time and space to think about it. I’m just glad she didn’t hate me for putting her on the spot like that, and for listening. It felt so good to get that off my chest. Now I feel lighter than air.
I don’t know what will happen, but I will say that if things don’t work out, I’ll probably always be her biggest fan. She is probably one of the most talented writers I know, and I feel lucky to even have met her at all.