12:02 p.m. | 2004-05-19
What Do I Have That You Want?
I decide to update after things have changed.
When I had started this I had hoped that it would be a marker of not only what happened in my lifem but writing as art. And since my life is never entertaining enough (or if it is I refuse to give the details to the situation) I fear I may want to rely on that art too much. But I don't write artistically. There's the rub.
I've recieved a phone call every night for about 6 nights, and I've fallen asleep on the phone (as was expected and enjoyed) as he tells me that he loves me, as he tells me that he wants to be with me.
I can't be with him.
I'm going to have to break his heart, and for the life in me I can't think of a lie worth telling him to make it all better.
I went to a movie with David McCoy last night. I got out and turned on my cell phone. I had a text message.
I See.
It was from someone I haven't talked to in 6 months. From a guy who said that he never wanted to hear my voice again because he couldn't stand the fact that he was falling in love with me, but would never be able to have me.
I responded. Perhaps I shouldn't have. I don't know. So I sent him something simple. Three dots. Something that I use often and he knows, but symbolize silence and confusion.
...
He responded saying that the message must have been saved. I told him I wasn't sure what to say (in all honesty my jaw was on the ground). He joked saying that:
Usually people say hi or how r u
I told him that I missed him, but I didn't want to hurt him. He responded with:
Can you call me?
I said yes. And seconds later I heard his sweet voice. The one I had almost fallen in love with more than twice.
What do I do? Where do I go? How did I honestly let myself do this? Maybe it's best to just stop answering my phone.
God damn it. What do I have to offer you people that makes you want to be with me so bad?
Shoot.
*edit*
Gabe and I hung out. When I got home. He found out I was back in the state. We hung out. I think I might have made him smile. Good thing is, though, there's no longer any kind of anger because I don't know what I'm doing. I know what I'm doing--I always do. Ha.
