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A very small number of individuals know what I’ve been busy with, everyone else must think I’m off in the land of… something.

The fact of the situation is that my life just flat out sucks right now. I’m putting in, on average, more than twelve hour days writing code for Positive Fusion. Unfortunately my motivation is dwindling quickly due to what I’d call ‘real-life circumstances’ ….

Life outside of writing code is less than desirable. I really did, although incredibly naively, expect things would be easier than they apparently are. I didn’t expect him to create new obstacles once the old ones cleared out, but sure enough that’s really how it appears now.

I have three journal entries still pending. I’ve not written about our Christmas celebration, nor have I written in any public way about how New Year’s turned out. The third is where I write about putting my heart out there on paper… even virtual paper for that matter.

Slightly more than a week ago I spent the evening with this guy, the guy I’ve been writing of vaguely and mentioning in rather off cuff manner. Our spending an evening together is in no way remarkable, as it has occured enough to describe the frequency as, well, frequent. There was a scheduling conflict of my own making, I needed to leave quite early in the morning.

When the alarm sounded and I prepared myself for leaving this… anxiety fell over me. I
kissed him goodbye and caressed his face, saying that I would see him very soon.

I walked down the stairs, out of the building, toward my car several blocks away.

My eyes welled with tears. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, other than I was leaving him.

I realized as I was driving home that leaving him was enough to bring such sadness. I wrote about it prior to new years, but I never actually told him how sad it was when we left each other.

I failed a goal, one of those invisible goals I wrote about. I was really trying to straddle the edge of being a friend whose boyfriend has left, because I can relate to that oh so very well, unfortunately… and also the edge of someone so very interested in moving things forward between us.

I joked with Matthew that this man should be able to judge the nature of my visit by the type of shoes I’m wearing and if I’ve brought flowers. If I wear my black italian leather shoes it is clearly a date, otherwise… I’m there as a friend. I realize it’s silly, but this is the sort of territory where things are hard to define, thus any sort of defining feature becomes increasingly important.

I was casual, but I also brought him a rose. This was clearly, if you’ve been following, a blend of the two. Perhaps that is one of my failures; I have been trying to hard to fit the appropriate role instead of going full-out for whatever it is that I want. I felt it inappropriate to move in so soon… and I still feel that it would be have been inappropriate.

He gets so much breadth of patience with me.

The only certain way to gain my disfavor is to disrepect me. The most disrespectful course of action is to lie, to forge the truth. Actually, that isn’t the most disrepectful, to lie by method of omission is even worse.

I’m the type that will keep giving rope. I won’t tip my hand, or if I do, it is in a calculated way. I am, by nature, a very calcuating person. I am manipulative, I make no dissaugement of that in any way. On average any manipulation I endeavour toward is completely transparent and is done not for the pursuit of negative goals. Even so, one must realize that nothing is said without it first passing through several filters: Is it appropriate given the situation? Is it for purposes of being vindictive? Is it for purpose of explaining how I feel? Does this person deserve to know how I actually feel? You get the idea.

With him I’m putting significant effort into letting him know how I actually do feel. It is highly difficult, I need to bypass so many of the filters that would normally stop me from saying anything.

That was precisely the case the other evening and more so the other morning. I stood at the door to the bedroom looking back at him, not wanting to leave, yet knowing that I needed to… I never told him that I love him, I wanted to… I just didn’t. I didn’t tell him how much it hurt to leave, I wanted to.

I walked down the sidewalk as if I’d never see him again. All the things I wanted to say to him flowed through my mind and I felt regret.

I suppose I can say it is because of my father’s death that I feel the importance of making sure someone knows they’re loved…. everyday, every time you see them, and especially every time you part from them.

I can’t make up for mistakes in my past. I can; however, avoid making them now.

My invisible goal is to tell him I love him every time I see him. The words were on my tongue more than once, but I kept stopping myself from actually saying them.

Realizing that I failed that goal was painful, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to those reading this.

Upon returning home I wrote him an email where I put my heart out on the virtual paper. I told him everything that was coursing through my mind that moment where I looked back at him.

He didn’t reply.

I’ve not seen him since that morning.

The screws have come loose. I think it may be time to cut losses.