I was more afraid to post this one than most any other post. Cini convinced me to push the button. I don't have energy for a post with some beautiful or meaningful ending or conclusion. There was no journey in writing this post. I didn't learn anything that I didn't already know. I just acknowledge it. Blatantly. So I apologize. Here goes...
I have a cliché story about "unrequited love." It is significant because of the love part (or at least really, really like), and the fact that it's in MY story... and yes it's a boy. And no, the boy does not have more legs than two. I know, crazy, I like a boy.
Once upon a time there was a guy who I was completely comfortable with. I liked to get dressed up when I went to visit him. But I also knew that it was okay if I didn't dress up. If it was just plain ol me, he still thought I was worth talking to. I'm rarely comfortable around guys... especially guys I like. That never happens. But it happens with him.
We talk about things that I don't get to talk about with anyone else. Like how people say "It was the best thing of my life," and "that's the worst" when they don't really mean it. And we read his homework and my homework and discuss philosophies of it. For fun. And it is. No one talks about that stuff with me, but him. And my Dad.
When I feel down and I have no energy to be around people, I still have energy to be around him. He gives me energy. And he doesn't mind if I'm empty. I can be in the most horrid mood and I can't help but light up or at least feel content around him. He's okay to listen if I have the courage to share something hard I'm going through. If I don't, he keeps it light. I trust him with what I share.
I'd do anything to make him smile. Chips and salsa on a hard day. A note. Just stopping by to hear about his day and his latest insight on the world and the people we see everyday. He shares with me what is on his mind so honestly. I feel like he trusts me.
I don't flirt with guys. I flirt with him a lot (for me anyway). I tell him how much I appreciate him. I invite him over for food. I invite him on hikes. I invite him to storytelling because it turns out that he likes cowboy poetry (Who expressly likes cowboy poetry?! :) ). I flat out said, "you know I really like you, right?"
And he says, "I really appreciate you too."
And...
"Hey, guess what? She comes home in 10 days! I've been waiting for 3 1/2 years! She's so beautiful! Look at her. Here are some more pictures she sent..."
Missionaries... I have words...
Dear sister, I will not say your name, but I know a bit about you. He talks about you all the time. He can't wait for you to get home. You must be pretty amazing to catch his eye and his heart. He's no dummy. I wish he had given me a chance. I might not be as desirable as you. But I wish I had a chance. I wish he just looked at me like he looks at you, just once. I hope you understand that when you get home and if things go well between you two... you are taking something special from me. So you better understand just what you've got. You are welcome, I step down gracefully. I still go just to be around him. I ask him about how he feels with you almost home. I still look at your latest pictures. I will continue to enjoy time with him, of course. He is my friend. I am a fiercely loyal friend. I'm happy for him. I really, really am. In true sincerity. Because he's my friend. And you make him happy.
Sister, maybe you and I could be friends... in some other situation.
But please forgive me, right now, I'm kinda pissed at you.
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