vinylgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's not like it was a date When I told him, rather sheepishly, that I couldn't go to the fashion show with him, he told me not to worry about it. But his face looked pained. And then, "It's not like it was a date or something," he said, "I know," I said, "I just felt badly about canceling at the last minute." It didn't occur to me before he said it. His saying it conjured it. I was incredulous in my own mind. "He knows I am in a relationship," I thought. Only a few minutes before I tried to lie unconvincingly in a phone message to my boyfriend. Working late, I said meekly. I caught myself after a few minutes of staring at my computer screen. "What would happen if he found out," I thought with sudden panic. He would be livid and so he should. "Why would he ask you to lunch," he asked a couple weeks ago when I mentioned meeting up with an old friend from university. "I'm a guy," he said, "And I would only ask a girl to go for lunch or whatever if I was interested." I tried to argue that men and women can just be friends. Deep down I knew the optics were bad. But I was completely honest that there was no attraction there. "I can handle myself," I said. This time though...I'm confused. I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least intrigued. He's smart and funny. We have a banter -- something I have always had a weakness for. I've thought about it And I hate myself for having these thoughts. Especially now. On Monday we are going for our first counseling session after some tough months of circular arguments. Something I said we had to do before we can move forward. I think I am hoping for some key turning lock moment when I can make a decision about where this goes. I can't remember when I lost sight of the future. I think he has told me to get out, to take it or leave it, and I have threatened that I can't do this anymore and I'm going to leave, too many times. Each time we fought over me leaving clothes on the floor or what sex of dog to get, the future got a little more blurry. Last night -- granted that I was two mimosas in -- when my friend asked, "What do you love about him?" I hesitated. "I don't know anymore." I wasn't trying to be dramatic. I just don't know. We rarely have sex anymore. I can't seem to get in the mood. We used to do it all the time and it was great. It's a clear sore point. I think it's due to all the fighting, which melts trust and intimacy. I have to re-read our old emails and early diary entries to remember what love felt like. "What do you think the outcome of the counseling will be?" she asked. "I don't know," I said. "But whatever happens, I'll be OK." 12:31 a.m. - 10/17/2010 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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