I dreamt of you last night. I wanted to reach out and remind you that I care, I’m rooting for you and hope this finds you and yours well. I know you already know that. I don’t know if you know that I miss you and the boys presence in my life immensely, our long conversations on cold nights until we fell asleep, your hand between the leather of my boot and cotton of my jeans as we just ride your bike down an open road, on a sunny, summer day, the feeling and freedom like flying.
I’ll never understand how or why you arrived at the decision to erect these boundaries between us, but I respect them. I’m leaving with the best moments tucked away safely in my memories and no regrets.
Peace and Prosper, Captain.
It’s not for sissies.
Everything they need and want and feel is on you. Despite almost everything you do revolving around this fact, guess what? You’re also the only one to blame.
Today was one of those days in which everything I did with my time and energy was selfless. It was all about someone/something else. At the end of the day, I didn’t get appreciation or even a hand, I got to hear about my shortcomings.
I’m so fucking tired of being strong.
Who do I have to be to get some reciprocity?
Tonight was brisk and rainy.
Around 8pm, I met him again for a drink in the hotel bar. We got closer as our conversation continued. We walk a couple doors down for dinner. He seems satisfied afterwards and I’m certain we will part ways, but he asks me to have another drink with him. We take our time walking the city block. He tries to capture the mood with a picture: a dark, wet passage lit up by string lights and store fronts that dance in the drizzled, rippled puddle reflections.
Over our last drink, he brings up one of our first conversations, a question I posed that has really caused him to do some soul searching. He tells me he feels an attraction to me: and also he feels that he is still very much jaded from his prior relationships.